


The Beasts of the Rising Sun

by khelgui



Series: Gods & Beasts [2]
Category: Brown-Eyed Girls (Band), DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, MBLAQ, Super Junior
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Drama, Drug Dealing, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Family, Friendship/Love, Gangs, Gun Violence, M/M, Smut, Temporary Amnesia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khelgui/pseuds/khelgui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donghae returns to Seoul to seal a deal, not expecting to start running after a man that is supposed to be dead. Hyukjae has been ordered to bust the deal up, but after shooting someone, his shattered identity and pieces of the past start crawling their way back to haunt him. How bad will they clash when Donghae knows the truth, and Hyukjae has only been told lies about betrayal?</p><p> </p><p>Also at: https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/740524/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghost

1\. Ghost

 

They had been waiting for their partner almost for an hour, and one of the two started to get impatient. His elbow placed on the windowsill of their van, he glanced the seat on his right.

 

They had known each other for around eight months. Even after all the time that had passed, he still remained the same. Always doing what he was told, despite a certain lost look in his dark brown, almost black eyes. He didn’t talk much, but if he did you couldn’t say if he was being mean or his sarcastic self. The guy was practical and had some skills he was envious about, but in reality blessed with the knowledge he had. The knowledge about one’s self. The fact, that he could actually remember where he came from. Who he had grown up to be and what he had done during his short life.

 

This red haired man over his right didn’t remember anything about his life before 8 months ago.

 

After some more waiting, there was finally a sound of an engine roaring, getting closer.

 

The men in the van lifted their gazes towards the car turning behind a corner. The red head didn’t say a word, but the other male freed an annoyed scoff into the air.

 

“I always wonder when it's our time to get those fancy new cars.”

 

He heard a raspy snicker coming from the passenger’s seat, making him furrow his brows.

 

“You don’t have enough balls to own a car with that price tag, G.O,” the red head noted, “Let’s just get this shit done.” He opened his door, hopping out of the car before his buddy would say a thing.

 

“I can still daydream about that,” G.O mumbled and followed the other into the night.

 

There was a splash when a BMW rolled through a water puddle, ever so slow, like a creeping tiger. The car parked ten meters away from them, the engine killed but the headlights left on. The lights illuminating from the puddles gave some more sight to the dusky night. Only the street lamps and some of the neon lights lit the lot. Gray clouds hovered over the December sky of Seoul; the sharp wind from North made the air even crispier, digging through skin and bones.

 

A man stood out of the driver’s seat. With rigorous steps he went to open the rear door, his essence giving a gist of a trained soldier’s. Another man stood out, dressed in an expensive smoky gray suit; sunglasses covered his eyes despite the fact it was 10pm at night; a black, leather-made briefcase hung of his gloved hand, lips stretched into an unreadable kind of smile that didn’t give out any true intentions.

 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the man in the gray suit grumbled in Chinese. His tread towards the two told something about his position in his own world.

 

The driver remained outside the vehicle, lighting up a cigarette. The white smoke swirled around him, yet he was calm as a rock but most likely ready for any kind of action.

 

Though G.O was the one more experienced when it came to their line of work, the red head wasn't afraid to make the first move. He didn't even bother to use Chinese when he spoke. He didn’t give a damn about the foreigner's possible leverage even when it came to making business with him. He was fearless, which often scared the shit ouf of his buddy.

 

“Show me the goods.”

 

G.O didn't have the slightest idea where his comrade's confidence – or death wish – came from.

 

“It's the highest quality,” the Chinese man barked in his broken Korean as he followed the red haired man towards their van's tailgate. The case was spread open on the floor of the van's boot, revealing the mini-grip bags filled with white powder. The older man fingered the knot of his tie, his thick cheeks rather white.

 

G.O nodded, trying to ease the tension that was lingering in the air because of his partner's obstinacy.

 

“Let's check it out.” Inhaling a bit of the product served from a little metal plate, G.O crunched his nose as he felt the substance getting in. A little water rose to his eyes, and a tingling sensation filled his head.

 

“You know you can always trust in our quality,” the dealer said, closing the briefcase. In turn, G.O took out two bigger cases and opened them, giving sight to a dozen guns they had promised as a trade.

 

“A dozen? I thought we talked about eighteen!” the Chinese grunted, but the one beside him only shrugged.

 

“Boss' orders.”

 

“You can't do that! It lacks six pieces from the original contract!” the short and wide Chinese man hissed, obviously very pissed at the situation he had not seen coming.

 

“Take it or leave it.”

 

“Your stuff isn't high-quality anyway." G.O brushed his nose and sneezed, trying not to grin with menace to the man that seemed flabbergasted. “It's average. Garbage, even.”

 

“You're making a big mistake!”

 

“You too know the rules. I just heard you're in debt to us... Are you sure you want to argue about this?”

 

The so-called dealer flinched immediately and seemed troubled, as he started to fidget on his feet.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“Tick-tock. Ten or none, what will it be?”

 

“What?!” The man’s narrow eyes widened, horrified.

 

“Then what do you think about our Bloodhounds after you?”

 

“Fine! Fine. Vultures.”

 

The man grabbed the case of the guns which now lacked of two, marching back to his car hissing and slamming the door after him.

 

***

 

Back in their van, on their way towards the headquarters, G.O opened his mouth whilst he drove.

 

“Did she really say they would send them?” he asked, raising his eyebrow in question. He saw the other looking outside the window through his peripheral vision. The man's fingers soundlessly drummed against his thigh covered in black cargo pants.

 

“I made that up.”

 

“You're such an asshole.”

 

“Thanks", the other chuckled.

 

“Such a moron that guy though. He's digging his own grave pulling shit like that with us."

 

“...and you ain't one?”

 

The driver noticed the smirk that was meant for him. “...I'd beat you up, Ghost, if I wasn't driving.”

 

“You hit like a girl,” the other muttered, laughing a bit when he felt a fierce slap on his occipital. The car swerved a bit by the lack of focus. The name he was called these days kept ringing inside his head. Over and over.

 

“I hate you, you know that?” G.O grumbled, glancing at his buddy as he threw playful daggers with his eyes towards the guy who always seemed to get the last word.

 

After a silence fell between the men, the one on the passenger's seat fell into his own thoughts. Ghost stared through the window, pupils following the raindrops mixed of snow and water pouring down on the glass. He could see the lights passing by, and all the colors of the city running in front of his eyes. Yet he wasn't really there.

 

There was a feeling that had kept sparking inside his chest from the beginning. Sometimes it got so heavy that it blocked all the sense out from his head and made him unable to think. He couldn't understand what it meant. It just ate him from the inside and made him feel emotions he wasn't able to recognize.

 

Seoul was his home now, yet it still felt like he didn't actually belong there. He thought the problem was that there was no reason to feel like that. And it made him even more frustrated. The months after he had woken up had gone by whilst trying to get to know his self again, and trying to make some sense of it all.

 

But there was no sense.

 

Few hours after he had woken up at the hospital eight months ago, a woman had appeared. She told him that someone had tried to kill him by smashing his car into the sea during a race he had taken part in. Why? She didn't seem to know. For what? She couldn't say.

 

He didn't remember and no one could get into his head and just pull out the answers. But apparently, the who had been a man from a mafia, a man he didn't remember like he didn't remember anyone else either.

 

Before the crash, he had actually been someone.

 

And even now, he didn't know who that man had been. Who he had been. Who he was supposed to be. What he was supposed to think about things, how he was supposed to act as the person he was, how he was supposed to go on with his life.

 

He was fighting inside his head with a nameless person he had no idea about its identity. He didn't know who was always looking him back through the mirror. And what actually lied underneath the surface.

 

Was he going to have to live his life with the feeling of emptiness? Inside a shell, captured forever like this, and never being able to come to terms with his own self? Would he have to wonder for his whole life who he was inside? Would he ever gain his memories back and get those pieces of himself back together?

 

It was an understatement that he was angry towards the person who had caused this. He couldn't even remember who were the ones who had been a part of his life. An important part. But if there was one thing he was sure about, it was the matter of getting revenge on that person who had ruined and erased his identity in such a fleeting moment. What he thought about things. How was the person before built, and what made him the man he had been before the accident. All gone. Some days he hoped that he would't have ever woken up, because being wide awake yet still living in a coma was hundred times worse.

 

Ghost. Fit him well. That seemed to be all that was left.

 

 

AN: Revised version. 

Some changes, you'll see. I suggest reading again. Glad to be back. 


	2. Damage

2. Damage

 

“It might not seem like much.”

 

The man gave her a blank look before he put down his light duffel bag, eyeing the place. There was no skepticism, nor doubt in his eyes. He had no expectations.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“You can be at home here; come and go as you please.”

 

He hummed.

 

“There’s just one thing,” she stated, dusting a tabletop with her slender fingertip. “We need to call you something.”

 

He stared through the window. The raindrops sounded loud in his ears. The grayness of the suburban view didn’t make him feel anything. The black hoodie felt strange against his skin. His fingers were cold and damb from sweat. The dark, rather small room around him was overwhelming, even if there was almost nothing there; just a bed, a small tabletob and a single closet on the corner opposite to the window wall.

 

“I have no name.”

 

A small smile rose to the woman’s lips. She had a thigh-long leather jacket, and a black shirt reaching up to her jawline. Her dark hair was the same length. Shadowy, clean makeup framed her feminine face.

 

“Then we shall make up one.”

 

The red head didn’t move. His eyes were glued on to the neon sign further away in the distance. The purple, glowing letters made his stomach churn. A sudden, hazy voice echoed inside his head like a memory he coulnd’t reach.

 

“How does Ghost sound?”

 

***

 

With a breathless sigh Ghost cursed before he threw his arm over his closed eyes. It was once again a night with these dreams that kept waking him up almost like clockwork; drenched in cold sweat and tears in his eyes. Yet he couldn't understand the reason behind the constant nightmares.

 

The only thing he had been able to catch was the darkness. The bright lights piercing through it. Making him blind when he caught a glimpse of a human figure walking away from him. He had never been able to stand up; he was always trying to get up from the ground only to the point where he was on all fours, until a hard blow beat him back down. The figure would already be fading away from his sight and not even once he had been able to see its face.

 

Even though he couldn’t recognize the person, he had always felt that heavy feeling inside his chest that he should have known his identity. But how could he recognize another person when he didn't even know himself? He wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

 

The confusion was eating him up. But he hadn't found the courage to go and ask his leader about it. Because even she didn't know much about his history when she had only been the one to save him. At least, that’s what she’d always tell him.

 

It might have been better for him to try to ignore those dreams. They weren't doing any good for him. But how could he stop the dreams from happening? He couldn't live his life by staying awake through all the nights. He was already exhausted. Yet still, despite the rough facts, he had started to get curious. Why would have his previous friends betrayed him like that, left for dead? Had he done something so bad to deserve treatment like that?

 

Sometimes he wanted to forget and live his new life without any distraction from the person he had been. Yet, he knew that those dreams wouldn't stop coming, and somehow, he wasn't sure if he even wanted them to stop. What else could give him even those little hints if it wasn't his subconscious?

 

Frustrated, he tossed the cover damp from his sweat off him. With slow and tired moves he sat up on the edge of his way too big double bed and buried his face onto his hands. The digital clock on his right side, on the nightstand, showed 3:01am. It was the fourth time in a row when he had woken up like this along the past week.

 

The red strands felt dank against his fingers. It was obvious that he had been tossing and turning while he slept - he always woke up like this. He licked his dry lips and tilted his head backwards, closing his eyes and then opening them again. Only to see the dimmed ceiling upon him. When he lifted his head back up again, he let out a heavy breath.

 

What would it change if he’d cry? Nothing.

 

Sometimes he was able to fall back asleep after a dream, but these days he hadn’t been able to. The time asleep had been few hours at most, and with that amount he felt weary. When he dreamed he had never felt like he had been resting after he had gotten out of the hospital. At the hospital he had at least gotten different kinds of meds to help him sleep. But now, in its place were the emotional sickness and the dreams drying him out.

 

He had slept for two and half hours tonight, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be sleeping for the rest of it. The dream had started the same as usual... But now there had been a scene in it where he had been standing inside a room covered in mirrors that showed his own reflection from every direction. He had seen himself from the glass, black eyes and hands sliding against the walls, searching for a way out. The room was dark, but there was still enough light to see the emptiness beside his presence. He had tried to kick it broken, but to no avail. He had smashed his fist against the glass, and only little distortion had happened.

 

The reflections were driving him crazy. He had recognized himself, but the fact that he didn’t know who the man staring back at him and mimicking his moves was horrifying. The dream got all his emotions bundled together. Making him feel sick and desperate because he could only see the man but still felt nothing. There were no beginning nor an end, no past, no history, no identity.

 

After a while that had felt like an eternity, all the glass had broken down and there had only been darkness; suffocating darkness. He hadn’t been able to breathe because he had been underwater. He had not been able to discern the surface. Until there had been a car smashing into the water at the further distance, and he had woken up. Breathing uneven and erratic.

 

Standing up and walking towards the window across the room, he stopped. In front of a full size mirror, he placed his hands on its edges, gripping the wooden frame. Back from the glass a man stared back at him, upper body bare and his legs in gray and loose college pants. Red strands almost covered his dark almond eyes with their blank gaze. His eyes wandered upon his own body, once again taking a note of his scars that came from the crash. One bigger on his lower abdomen, around his hip bone, from surgery. A few on the left side of his rib bones, and another bigger and deeper one on his shoulder. A myriad of other smaller ones here and there.

 

One that took his attention the most was the one that went over his left cheek. It wasn’t such a bad scar, but it was noticeable enough despite the fact it had healed quite well. Those scars would always remind him of the crash. The one on his cheek and the one on his abdomen were the kind of scars that would never fade away.

 

It didn’t matter if there were scars, because they didn’t make him look any worse. But the fact that he didn’t exactly remember what had caused them would bother him for the rest of his life if he never got his memories back.

 

The only thing he had was the conversations with Gain. And the little details he had gotten to know about his own self. But still, it wasn’t much.

 

***

 

“Who am I?”

 

His voice had been shaking, fingers clasping around the duvet while his eyes stared outside the window. He was hurting. Hurting inside. Even after few months from the crash, he was in pain when he had woken up. His head hurt, his leg hurt, his insides hurt. Even his heart, but it was from something else.

 

The woman sitting beside the bed looked at him through his black lashes, eyes rimmed with jet black, thick eyeliner. She was quite a petite woman, but something in her gave out a strong aura – one that warned people from messing around with her. Her eyes didn’t give out any emotions to see. Though there might have been a hint of something that seemed like she understood.

 

“Do you want an honest answer?”

 

He didn’t say anything back, because the question told enough.

 

“I don’t know you much better than you. I only happened to be there to get you treated before it was too late.”

 

“What happened...?”

 

She tilted her head, and like he, she gazed through the window, eyes following the droplets of cold rain of March.

 

“One of my men noticed you on the shoreline while we were passing by,” she started, clicking her tongue. “You were... You looked like shit. and I was r contemplating if you were even alive anymore, but we stopped our car and came to you. The water had washed most of the blood, but the scars made by the pieces of glass on your skin were still bleeding. The big cut on your cheek wasn’t any better. Another of my friends had some medical training. He managed to keep you alive until we got you to the hospital. You looked bad on the outside, but it was even worse on the inside. You fell in a coma during the last surgery you got.” Her voice was softer, but something in it made it sound like gravel. It wasn’t such a feminine voice like some of the nurses'.

 

He didn’t say anything in a while, because it was quite a lot to digest in.

 

“We didn’t find any ID of yours, only a punch of crap from your pockets. No phone, no passport...” she trailed off.

 

His head hurt and ached, and it was very likely that it was because of all the dry information. He swallowed some nil saliva, noticing the dryness of his mouth when he tried to stammer the question out.

 

“So... What’s my name?”

 

The woman, who had introduced herself as Son Gain, still had the blank look on her face. He couldn’t say if it was a part of making him stay calm, or if it was a part of the young woman’s personality. But he actually found it a bit calming when his insides were in such a turmoil.

 

”I don't know.”

 

He was still a shell of a human without his memories.

 

***

 

It had been a year after the accident. And tonight, for his surprise, he had been able to fall asleep again after waking up in the middle of the night. But at the moment he regretted that he had fallen back asleep. Because this time, the dream had felt even more terrifying. He wasn't sure if the anniversary of the accident that happened around the same time last year made his dreams even worse. It made him see the man without a face, forcing him inside the mirrored room which woke him up in the middle of the night.

 

Every night he woke up with a shock, yet the latest one had been the worst till now.

 

The man brushed his hand through his red hair, breathing out a huff. It told something about his tiredness when he strolled down the wide stairs towards the meeting room of the huge, old house. He was so sick of the nightmares. When his foot met with the squeaky, wooden floor, he flinched when another male stormed in front of him.

 

“Geez, Mir, where did you sprout out?” he asked in mild annoyance, glaring the younger man standing there with a grin that felt a bit too bright for his liking.

 

The male chuckled, tilting his head questioningly. “Man, you look like a ghost - do you sleep at all these days?”

 

“Very funny. Sometimes,” he murmured, trying to wipe away the weariness with his hand. His attention broke when he heard some noises coming from the close distance. Mir glanced at the direction like he had done.

 

“Let's go. Gain said she has an important task for us,” Mir ordered, glancing at the other man. Mir didn’t know any better about the newer addition to their small gang. Mir had asked about his past from the other members at the beginning, but no one knew more than he did, so he had let the matter go. The things he had heard, and how exhausted the guy looked that late afternoon of the 5th of November, made him a little concerned about the red head's well-being.

 

Ghost nodded and followed his comrade through the dark and long hallway which led them to the door at its end. The door was partly open, and he heard the other members’ heated voices.

 

The room was most likely an old library, judging by the mahogany bookshelves that were up to the ceilings high, filled with different kinds of books with a slight dust covering them. Two guys were sitting on the armchairs, the third of them standing and leaning against the shelf. G.O was one of the guys on the armchair – and the one trying to make his opinion clear about something – until he turned his head towards the newcomers. He raised his eyebrows, eyeing the red head. Ripped denim jeans, which looked like they were a bit too big for his size, and his upper body covered with a hoodie and a thin leather jacket. His eyes then followed Mir to the chair he had sat on, soon returning to Ghost.

 

“You look like—“

 

“Shit,” Ghost mumbled. Knowing that the words were for him when he was the only one who looked like an insomniac with the dark circles surrounding his single-lidded eyes. “I know.”

 

“You should do something about that,” G.O noted, “Get some sleeping pills or something.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Ghost scratched his neck while he walked closer to the window on the opposite wall, noticing the few dusty forgotten and emptied cans of beer on the windowsill.

 

The glass looked like it was in need of cleaning, but he could see to the yard that had a silver-like cover because of the hoarfrost of the night. The one single and old apple tree had lost its leaves half a month ago, and it looked pretty lonely on the big yard.

 

The whole place was pretty isolated from the downtown of Seoul, and there was quite a lot of space around the building. It had been without owners for a while before it had been taken to Gain's account few years ago. It was a place Ghost had spent his time after getting out of the hospital, but it didn’t give him a feeling of being at home. He still felt like an outsider, even though the people had taken him in very well. But he couldn't see them being friends yet; comrades and coworkers but not as friends.

 

His attention crept back to the others when he heard Hyunjoong's curious voice questioning the men present.

 

“Do you have any idea what this is about...?”

 

No one was fast enough to answer that when another door of the room opened and a woman in black entered. Her usual essence hinted about confidence and authority, with a sense of something a bit darker.

 

“Let's get started,” she said whilst walking behind a massive desk that lied almost in the middle of big room. She placed a laptop on it and opened it with a quick movement of her right hand. There was a minute of silence, when the woman seemed to be opening a file on it. Ghost gazed towards her, wondering what this was about because usually they got their tasks by text messages.

 

Gain glanced at her underlings with a suspicious smirk, turning the laptop's screen towards the men. There was a photograph of a man with dark, spiky hair, and the photo was one taken by nightfall.

 

Ghost furrowed his brows. The guy didn't look familiar, and not very important either, so what made this different than the usual?

 

“This is a Chinese gang leader, Zhong Ze Xiang from Quanzhou. As far as we know he's coming to Seoul in two days to seal a deal with one of the Korean mafias, with its leader Yunho.” A new photo popped up on the other side of the screen.

 

“It is likely that either of them isn't coming alone, but with a punch of backup. It's been a while since these gangs had had anything to do with each other.” She gave a meaningful look towards everyone. Especially Ghost, who had been staring outside for a while. He didn’t notice it, but Gain observed him for a few seconds, before she turned her eyes back to his laptop.

 

He might not have reacted in any way, but after listening to those few sentences he suddenly felt how his head had started aching. And for a short moment some picture-like visions ran behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable sensation inside his head.

 

“We’re going to do a raid,” she said, tilting her head a bit backwards with a dark glint in her eyes.

 

“A raid?” Mir asked eyebrow quirking in confusion.

 

“Yes,” Gain said. “I need two shooters and three to five who'll have another job to do.”

 

Ghost had a weird kind of feeling down on his stomach, but he didn’t have the slightest idea why though. His dull eyes roamed in the landscape outside, and he buckled his fingers against his palm. The sun wasn’t even shining, and it only gave some little light behind the low and grayish clouds. It felt like it was going to rain – water or sleet – later in the day. Somehow, it fitted his mood; gloomy, yet somehow impatient.

 

“Why?” He only noticed he had opened his mouth after the last letters escaped through his lips. His gaze turned towards their leader, whose authority or reasoning he usually didn’t question.

 

She stared at the red head until she threw a bit meaningful glance through his eyelashes. “I was about to get on to that,” she noted, clicking the touchpad of the aluminum colored laptop. The two faces from earlier changed into a full collage of different faces. Most likely Korean.

 

“Here,” she said, pointing at the pictures. “You can see the men from Shiwang and Xiezhi. Which are nowadays in quite good relations, after the previous lead of Xiezhi got killed. These two are the leaders,” she continued, now pointing at the two men who had the biggest pictures on top of the others. The other leader was older than the other wo had dark brown hair and pilot sunglasses over his eyes.

 

“Who’s that kid?” Hyunjoong inquired; tone half curious and partly bored. The raid didn’t seem to surprise the others as much as it confused Ghost.

 

“He,” she scoffed. “Is Xiezhi’s new young head, Lee Donghae. He’s most likely tagging along with Yunho – alongside with some of their most trusted underlings. We attack as they’re about to strike a bargain. It’s important that you act as unnoticeable as possible. It’s crucial they don’t know who attacked. When it’s time, you open the fire. Do not kill anyone important yet.”

 

He didn’t understand the look in Gain’s eyes. He didn’t yet know any reason behind this plan, but he thought that there had to be something. When he looked at the pictures on the screen, he had to close his eyes when a piercing throb of pain made known itself. A slice from his nightmares flew behind his eyes, and he started to think if he had something wrong with his head. Or if it was due to his exhaustion and lack of sleep.

 

“Ghost,” the woman called, and the man lifted his eyes back to her. She took few steps towards him. “I’ve managed to gather more information about your accident.”

 

The red haired looked puzzled after the words that somehow made his blood boil faster. Would he get more answers about his past? Was there something to do with this raid? He realized that he might have reacted to the photos, he didn’t know why, but something about them got him alarmed.

 

“What does my accident have to do with this?” he asked with a little cough. His mouth had once again gone dry. He was gripping on the windowsill, somehow wanting to hold onto something stable.

 

“I thought that you might want to be a part of this because these guys are responsible of trying to kill you. They betrayed you, and left you to die. They have killed my family one by one. Is that a reason enough for you?”

 

He gulped, feeling how his head was getting heavier, and his heartbeat fastened. He felt a sudden anger growing inside, and he gritted his teeth when he tilted his head a bit more towards the woman. His gist had made a 180 degree turn in mere seconds. All the frustration was shining through eyes that now had the cold and dim look in place of confusion.

 

Ghost hadn’t given any attention to his comrades, who were now eyeing him expectantly. This was still a smaller gang, but the red head had gotten to know how vicious it could be. Till now, he had contemplated if there would be a place for him to belong. At the moment, he felt content for the first time. That there were some people by his side, trying to help him get back on his feet.

 

He now had a lopsided, mischievous smile on his plump lips.

 

“You can count on me.”

 

 

AN:  
I hope these revised chapters are more pleasant to read. Any thoughts? 


	3. One Shot

3\. One Shot

 

He wasn’t sure what the hell he was even doing there.

 

Why would he go dig for the painful memories when he had just gotten over them? When he had been telling himself for months that he was okay, and fine, and he could actually live with the fact that he had lost another important person in his life? He had experienced the loss before, it was nothing new.

 

There were no tears left to cry. There were only the memories, which sometimes felt more like nightmares because it hurt so fucking much to let them invade your mind over and over again. He had been able to bury a part of them somewhere deep down into the secret chambers of his soul. Yet sometimes they were able to escape and come back to haunt him; making a young man like him, who was supposed to be living his life, sink back to the past and replay the grief again and again. Yet he found himself here, in a garage that stored a part of his heart. A part of the memories he had tried so hard to hide from himself.

 

A glacial breeze crawled into his jacket and towards his skin from the open part of the front, but he couldn’t focus on anything else but the black jewel in front of his eyes. How could such thing as car bring back so many memories?

 

Feelings, sensations; when he returned back in time to live again the moment when he first started to learn. He could memorize the frustration blended with excitement – and something else that didn’t actually join with the vehicle, but the person he had experienced it with. The curses and the swifting moments of encouragement. Finally, the amazing feeling of success, and the fact that you were able to share it with that someone. To whom it had meant as much as it had meant to him.

 

He placed his hand upon the smooth metallic cover, feeling how the thin dust layer stuck on his skin and cleaned the hood leaving behind a sight of its glorious smoky black color, that once used to race with the wind and leave him breathless. Those wheeled zephyrs had been the one thing that had drawn them closer. Yet even thinking about it had been grueling enough to make him dodge plain driving, to a point he couldn’t even bring himself to drive a sports car. It always brought back painful images.

 

But he had started to long for the feeling of freedom. The power and speed, and the mere sensation when you drove through the hazes of the twilight. It was pure desire to be on control of your own faith. Life or death.

 

The electronic key was burning inside his pocket; demanding for his fingers to clasp on it and give it a meaning as the blood of the car’s heart. Dusky brown orbs eyed the black beast and glanced towards the sepang blue Audi beside the Lamborghini; knowing that both of them would make his mind go haywire if he would open the door and sit inside.

 

He knew there had always been something different about the Lamborghini. It was almost like a pull; a sensation he couldn’t ignore – like everything about Hyukjae had always been.

 

Without even noticing, he soon found his cold fingers around the plastic of the key, pushing the electronic button to open the lock of the car. A clack echoed in the garage with a flash of tuned, green hued lights. With a clammy hand he grabbed the handle, opening the wide door.

 

He had to close his eyes when a dizzy feeling crept around his head as a way too familiar fragrance hit his senses, mentally knocking him down with the amount of feelings it caused. It was unbelievable how the scent of his cologne was still so present even after so long. Despite the overpowering, heavy memories, he sat down on the leather seat but left the door open.

 

The man leaned the back of his head against the headrest. It didn’t feel quite the same; his shoulders were wider, and his hair far shorter. With a gulp and a wary sigh he let his eyes wander around the high-class interior of the car. He could see himself from the rearview mirror. He was older, grown. It was no boy looking back at him anymore. All the details gave more fuel to the fire inside.

 

It was only few days left from the first anniversary of Hyukjae’s death. He wasn’t sure if every person grieving from the loss of a lost one would feel like that; like it couldn’t be real at all. Like you were still waiting for someone to come and tell you that it had all been a bad dream, and everything would soon be fine again. It was like the time when winter was about to turn into spring; mere days when the birds that had left for a warmer place would come back home again and grass would turn green and everything would be back as it had been before.

 

“I was right when I had a feeling I’d find you here.”

 

The man had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed anything happening around, so when a familiar voice pierced through the thin air, and finally through his ears, his upper body jerked upwards. His heartbeat and mind rebooted before he was able to think straight again. He dropped his gaze onto his lap, taking a deep breath while his friend orbited around the other side of the car, dropping onto the passenger’s seat.

 

Donghae didn’t say anything back. Heechul hadn’t been expecting anything.

 

“What are you doing here?” the man asked, cat-like eyes watching after the expression changes of the brunet on his left.

 

He finally closed the door, as if he didn’t want anyone but Heechul to be able to hear his thoughts.

 

“I don’t know,” he said with a hoarse voice that made evident the fact that he had been in the cold garage for a good while. He could have started the car to get the heater on to keep himself warmer.

 

“When was the last time you came here?”

 

“The day after Yunho told me he had brought these here.” His voice was still powerless, lacking the confidence which he usually had. Yet in a place like this, and with a person so loyal like Heechul, he was able to let his shield down for a moment.

 

“It’s because of the anniversary, right?”

 

Heechul saw the difference between the usually restrained and stern essence, and that rare side of the young leader. It was so obvious that everything he tried so hard to be was all act, yet well maintained such. Donghae had given himself few months for the grief at best, and after that, he had surrounded himself with work. He would constantly shut off, and differ his soul and heart from the body and mind. Separating them and plain ignoring all the triggers.

 

No one knew how he coped up with all that acting.

 

Heechul saw the movement of Donghae’s adam’s apple when he swallowed in anxiety. The clasping of his fingers around the steering wheel told him that Donghae was trying to control the feelings inside which were about to boil over. Heechul didn’t need to guess to know that this young gang leader hadn’t vented himself in a long time.

 

“Maybe,” Donghae mumbled, “It’s just that...”

 

Heechul fidgeted on his seat, a bit impatient in all honesty.

 

Donghae nibbled his lower lip between his teeth, feeling unsure when it came to opening up about the thoughts inside his head that kept following and haunting him.

 

“I can’t seem to believe that he’s not coming back,” he blurted before he would swallow the words back inside and never let free. “That this is a never-ending nightmare. Call me crazy, but in my head it doesn’t make sense even when it does.”

 

“We are all a bit crazy here,” Heechul chuckled. He actually had a hunch of what could be swaying inside Donghae’s head, but he was no one to judge or to make assumptions about anything. Life would always be unfair, and with Donghae’s life it seemed to be even more so. Heechul didn’t dare to say more, and almost comfortable silence fell upon the two colleagues. The older knew he wasn’t the best person to console Donghae, but he knew what it felt like when you lost someone. And most of their friends did too, so there was none to belittle everything that Donghae had had to go through.

 

Donghae found it soothing when one of the men he had grown most close with was there, giving him the inaudible agreement for him to talk. And that itself was already more than enough. He was glad there were still people who were ready to listen if needed. But Donghae wasn’t ready to talk much, because he still hadn’t gotten his mind on place with anything. He had to figure things out by himself before he’d be ready to finally open up about everything.

 

Donghae sighed, turning his questioning eyes towards the older one.

 

“I assume you didn’t actually come this far to sit with me in a car that doesn’t even move?” the brunet asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit. Heechul’s sudden appearance helped, but it wasn’t all there was to it. Stupid or not, the mere distant scent of Hyukjae had made him feel more secure.

 

There was a meaningful gleam in Heechul’s eyes when their eyes met, and the young leader knew it was about work again.

 

“Yunho wanted to make sure you’re still coming tomorrow. You haven’t been around much lately.”

 

“I’m coming. The guy is well known in China and we need better associates now Xiezhi and Shiwang united. Yunho told me there’s some hassle going on abroad. Something is going on here to Japan, and everyone is getting tense because of it. We need some good partners and if we’ll be able to get a previous rival of Shiwang on our side, it would help a lot if ever needed...”

 

Heechul hummed and opened the door to get out of the car.

 

“We should get going," Donghae continued, trying to push himself to mentally prepare for a long day tomorrow. He didn’t even know why he had this weird feeling inside. Like his body was trying to tell him – warn him – that something meaningful was about to happen when he’d least expect it.

 

***

 

The drive from Busan to Seoul through that late evening night had that certain, expectant atmosphere and everyone knew its importance. It had been years of friction between the Chinese and Shiwang because of some quarrels that had happened in the past. Due to Yunho’s good counseling abilities he had been able to make the Chinese leader Zhong Ze Xiang, better known as Casper, interested in associating with the two Korean mafias again. Albeit they were two separate mafias, Xiezhi and Shiwang were working in unison. It was more like Xiezhi was under the other’s wing, still retaining their independence yet watching each other’s backs full-time.

 

They reached the heart of Seoul when the red numbers of the digital clock on the dashboard of the car turned 11:43PM. Kangin, the driver, turned the wheels towards right on an intersection. When the black SUV reached a ramp of a tall building that would bring them to Casper, the head of the Chinese gang called ZX Syndicate, the loading noises of the guns echoed inside the vehicle when the men prepared for the meeting. Their car consisted of Kangin and Heechul on the front, with Donghae and Sungmin at the back. The other SUV trailing right behind them had Yunho, Changmin and Yesung.

 

Heechul, Sungmin and Yesung were the ones trusted with automatic rifles, when the others had settled with smaller handguns. The premise was to keep everything peaceful until there would be a trustworthy contract and an understanding between both parties. No one would go there unarmed, in case something went wrong; it was wise to be cautious when ZX Syndicate and them hadn’t collaborated in a while.

 

The car was directed to the second highest floor, to the other end of the lots where the exit was the nearest. The hall was mere concrete, and the vestibules between the different floors only had thick concrete and iron railings, as other buildings piled around them. It was evident to them that Casper and his pack of subordinates were already there; their cars were parked on the very empty parking lot area, gathered on to a circle like ring.

 

Kangin killed the engine as he glanced to the backseat through the rearview mirror, locking eye-contact with Sungmin first. He then gave the raised eyebrows towards Donghae who had opened his seatbelt and was already halfway out of the car.

 

“Always in a hurry,” Sungmin muttered, following the youngest out of the car, the rest following suit.

 

The air of Seoul was heavy with different gas emissions, and the coldness made it crispier and somehow easier to breathe when Donghae inhaled the air deep into his lungs. He didn’t feel nervous anymore. He had somehow gotten used to these things. Yet the uncomfortable sensation under his ribcage still hadn’t left him alone.

 

He could hear the doors of the other car banging closed while his eyes focused on the ZX Syndicate’s most outranked members. The guards were already standing outside, their rifles held in front, resting against their shoulders. Judging by the more expensive looking, dark gray Lexus and the more formal clothes, it was obvious which one was the head of their league.

 

A smoky white puff of air lingered on the air when Donghae exhaled and halted on his tracks few respective meters away from the man in the midnight blue suit, who had a little bit mischievous grin on his full lips. Donghae sensed Yunho gathering his confidence beside him, and their five alert friends behind them.

 

“Long time no see, huh?” Casper started with a low chuckle in Chinese, tilting his head. “How many years it has already been, Yunho? Five, six?”

 

“Six, if I’m right,” was the answer from Donghae’s right side in a confident yet a bit reserved Korean. Yunho knew well enough that Casper could speak Korean and he could speak Chinese. But neither of them wanted to change for the other. Casper was aware of the fact that at the moment ZX Syndicate was a way smaller organization compared to Shiwang and Xiezhi together these days.

 

“But things have changed, I see,” the man noted, eyeing the two leaders. Which the younger was someone he had never seen before, but had heard of.

 

Donghae realized he was being the new subject of conversation after dozing off for a minute. His hands over his lap, left palm placed around the right fist and his jaw lifted upwards gave out a self-assertive essence, despite his young age. He had his thin lips sealed against each other, chocolate brown orbs now on alert under his dark brown fringe.

 

“You must be Lee Donghae? The son, whom Xiezhi belong all along?”

 

Donghae could hear how his friends on guard behind them shifted a tad nervously.

 

“I am,” he answered, giving a side-glance towards the older man as if he was making sure it was alright.

 

“It has been a while since the last time a Lee was the head. It’s for the better. I never got along with Hero and neither did my father.”

 

Donghae bridled his neck to relax himself.

 

“Let’s get to the point already, shall we?” Yunho requested with a hint of a forceful manner. The foreign man answered by clicking his tongue in slight annoyance.

 

“Well then, Yunho. You’ve requested cooperation with us?”

 

“You must be aware of the ruckus around these days,” Yunho noted.

 

Casper crossed his arms upon his chest, nodding. “One of the yakuzas has been fucking around quite a lot. Even a group of my men has gotten in the crossfire.”

 

“We could afford better protection to each other if we’d make some kind of an arrangement.”

 

The Chinese man seemed to be contemplating Yunho’s words when he eyed the taller man, brushing his own jaw with his fingers in thought.

 

“Which kind of arrangement are we talking about...?” he finally asked after a silent half a minute.

 

Although the conversation was important, Donghae’s thoughts started to drift. He didn’t have a problem of Yunho being the head master here; it was well known that he wasn’t so experienced with these things. He was more comfortable being Yunho's second on command.

 

His mind occupied with things related and not so, somehow he felt anxious about something he couldn’t quite grasp to. There was that odd kind of feeling in the air, but it didn’t seem to be about Casper’s gang in any way. Casper seemed to understand the state of the world these days, and in Donghae’s opinion he seemed more than eager to get the protection from them, which could lead to better exports and imports later on.

 

The brunet threw a slow glance towards the others now standing closer to their cars, looking more at ease where Donghae himself wasn’t. Sungmin raised his eyebrows when Donghae’s eyes met his, but the youngest only gave him a short, lopsided smile that couldn’t reach his eyes. Before he turned his gaze back to the conversation, he could swear he saw a gleam of distant light somewhere in the background, coming from above. He frowned, but returned his eyes back towards Casper and Yunho, yet the eerie feeling didn’t leave him.

 

It could have been any reflection of a light in the windows on the buildings nearby. So he let it be, at last when he heard Yunho bargaining the rules of their soon-to-be cooperation arrangement.

 

***

 

Ghost could discern the backs of their targets in the illuminated parking lot when he looked through the viewfinder of his gun. He was able to see the face of the known Chinese man – about the two others he was only seeing dark clothed backs. The other, taller man with a suit, and the shorter who could have been wearing denim jeans and a leather jacket. Calculating in his mind he was sure there were at least seven of the Korean men, and six of the others, but most of them were just robust guards.

 

He loaded the gun without a noise when he heard the slight rustle of his comrade coming nearby. He glanced towards his partner who had his own gun on top of the railing of the roof. The man’s black clothes made him blend with the darkness.

 

A short glare to his digital wristwatch told him it was only two minutes left from the set time they were to start shooting.

 

***

 

“Isn’t that a deal then?” Casper inquired, licking his lips while he observed Yunho and his underlings. He hadn’t taken any note of the younger man’s anxious essence, being too occupied by the pros and cons of associating with the Koreans.

 

“You agree, Donghae?”

 

Donghae didn’t get the chance to answer, when one of Casper’s guards fell down with a howl, red liquid pouring out of his stomach.

 

“What the fuck!” Casper gasped while he and his subordinates rushed towards their cars in a hurry.

 

The time seemed to stop for a second, when Donghae scanned the surroundings while more men were getting shot at, the rest running for cover. The shots landed on them without a sound, taking everyone by surprise. Men were dropping down one by one.

 

“Goddammit, where the hell are those coming from?!” Changmin shouted after getting out of the bullets way behind a concrete bar, gasping for air.

 

“You’re going to regret messing with the ZX!”

 

“It’s not us!” Yesung growled near their black SUV, dodging a bullet by a few inches. “Donghae, watch out!”

 

The brunet only recognized the distant sound of Yesung’s voice when it was already too late. A stabbing pain pierced through his upper abdomen. He slid down against the car by the force and the pain caused by the bullet.

 

“Shit! Donghae!”

 

“Get out of the open, idiots!”

 

He tried to stand up, but more blood burst through his fingers that were clasping against the crimson wound. He tried to find the way the shots were coming from, and he noticed a figure at the further distance. At the open roof of the building next to them, a man was looking at him. He saw the redness of his hair, the dark clothing and hint of a rifle. It was dark, but as if meant to be, a small neon sign on the roof gave enough light to lit a part of the man’s face. What scared him the most was the familiarity of his essence, one he thought he would never see again.

 

It couldn’t be.

 

It was impossible.

 

He was dead.

 

And as he brought his red stained fingers in front of his eyes, he was certain it was just the beginning.


	4. Shadows

4\. Shadows

 

Donghae leaned onto the car’s door, cheek pressed against the cold window and hoping the coldness would make his head clear again. The wound stung and his skin felt dank from the bloodloss, but he wasn’t able to realize the amount of physical pain he was actually experiencing when his mind was so full of unanswered questions about the red haired man on top of the roof.

 

In the moment he had seen the man in the dark night, he hadn’t been able to think straight. He wasn’t sure if all he had seen was actually even true to begin with, because this surreal thought had now invaded his mind. And because of that, he had decided to keep his mouth shut for now. Because to be honest, who would believe him? No one else had said a word about the shooter – or shooters – and he had heard most of them saying that they hadn’t seen anything. How had he been the only one able to catch a glimpse of the man then? How could he tell them that he thought the man who had shot at them might be Hyukjae? Who would believe that? They were his friends, he knew, but they all seemed so sure about how fragile Donghae was these days. Could there be a chance he was actually alive? How could he prove that he might be alive if he wasn’t sure about it himself?

 

“Donghae,” he heard a soft call coming from his right, but he didn’t react. He was way too occupied with the picture of possible Hyukjae with the gun, aiming at him. Why would Hyukjae shoot him? Why would he have been standing on the roof, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot? And why would he miss an easy kill shot?

 

“Donghae. Stay awake. We’ll arrive in any minute,” Sungmin spoke. The brunet could hear the sound of worry through the otherwise decent façade.

 

The car’s engine hummed, and the downtown streets of Seoul had already changed to suburban highways. His eyes followed the orange lighted street lamps, jumping from one to another as if he wasn’t aware of else.

 

“I am, Sungmin. I am awake, aren’t I?” the injured one murmured. Sungmin caught on his vague tone.

 

Donghae could guess the obvious frown from the man’s face, but he couldn’t find himself explaining himself anything – because if he was dreaming this all, he didn’t want to wake up from it.

 

 

***

 

 

It took about half an hour to reach their destination, and when they did, Donghae wasn’t sure what to think about. At the end of the road, in the distance, he saw the big house with its big yard and the warehouse. He hadn’t taken a note of the road the car had taken, but now when the SUV took a turn to the right and arrived in front of a mansion, he knew exactly where they were. It had been long since the last time he had been there, and he felt shivers running down his spine when memories started to fill his hazy mind.

 

Kangin stopped the car right in front of the marbled front stairs and glanced to Heechul at his right, but Donghae was too busy to notice anything around him. He felt so awake, and he didn’t care about the stinging pain on his torso or the fact that he was already climbing out of the black car, as if he’d already forgotten that he’d been shot. He didn't care about the crazied hollers around him. He couldn't care less about the fact that he had lost a ton of blood.

 

When he stopped on the ground underneath and took a wary inhale, he was soon overwhelmed from the fact of being there. Everything seemed to spin around him.

 

The three others were rushing to get out of the car, and to get a hold of the dangerously swaying Donghae.

 

“Goddamnit, Donghae!” Heechul raged, storming to Donghae's side. “Are you insane!”

 

“Do you think it was the best idea to come here...?” Sungmin whispered to Kangin.

 

“He isn’t made of glass, Sungmin,” he noted, “You worry too much.” Yet he hurried past Donghae through the stairs and into the mansion to get help.

 

Sungmin stopped beside the brunet and placed his palm onto his shoulder, steadying him.

 

“Leeteuk will fix you up real soon,” Heechul started, pausing for a second to look into Donghae's eyes before he continued. “Did you see anything back there?” Although Donghae was shot, it seemed there was more to it than he led on.

 

The younger male was clasping onto Heechul, his eyes unfocused on his comrade standing next to him. Heechul thought he saw something flickering in the other’s sad eyes, doubting if it could have been something else than pain.

 

“I didn't see anything,” Donghae muttered. “It was too dark and it happened so fast,” he lied, slurring.

 

“Alright. Let's go inside before you kill yourself,” Heechul commanded, somehow having a certain feeling down on his stomach telling him that there was something the younger left unsaid despite the shock he was in. But he didn't say anything. He had never wanted to demand anyone to tell him what they had inside their heads because he knew what it was like to have darkness as deep as the abyss of the ocean of his own. They all had a secret bay hidden in the back of their minds where no one else was welcome, and he wanted to keep respecting that.

 

There were no more shared words when they walked Donghae to the open door. As soon as they stepped into the house where it had actually all began, people rushed towards them with stretchers.

 

Donghae was forced onto it, yet he was barely there to fight against it. Nothing had really changed at all; the scents, the colors of the walls, the noises of someone opening the fridge in the black colored kitchen and not least the people he knew so well reminded him of everything that had happened in there. Induced by them, in the back of his mind, he saw everything as a film taking fast-rewind.

 

He saw the late evening of August and the two men arguing at the graveyard’s parking lot. He heard the gun firing, and the blackness that had soon taken over. He remembered some of the words shared in the car between the two men he yet didn’t know. How along the long drive he had fallen in and out of consciousness, and the piercing shots of pain on the back of his head. The little room downstairs of the mansion. The words of a male who had given him painkillers. Falling back asleep, and waking up again to find the stairs that lead to the upper floor. How they silently creaked under his heavy steps. The noises when the man with blond locks of hair made himself a cup of coffee. The man who he had grown so close to and who had told him the truth and helped to find out who he was.

 

How did it all feel so much more like a dream than reality...?

 

Everything turned to blurred spots in the distance, the voices a hum, when a familiar darkness took over by stealth when it all went black again.

 

 

***

 

 

Donghae finally woke up three days after the shooting. The amount of blood he lost during the drive and the shock of being shot for the first time must have taken its toll on him. It had been his very first time getting shot at in his whole life.

 

Yet for him, the thing that mattered wasn’t why but by whom.

 

After falling unconscious Leeteuk had treated his gunshot wound and given him strong sedatives to force him to rest. The shot had been a through-and-through, which had made everyone sigh in relief.

 

He had been left to sleep on the bed in the basement; the same room he woke up one and half years ago. This time, the sun was beaming through the same small window, but instead of the headache he only felt stabbing pain. His throat felt damp when he tried to sat up on the edge of the bed. He massaged his forehead with eyebrows in a deep frown when thought about the wild dreams he had seen while being sedated.

 

The brunet had seen glimpses of the blond strands and black, piercing orbs. But even more he had seen the red headed figure on top of the roof appearing again and again behind his closed eyes despite how much he tried to switch the channel.

 

He was aware of how much such a trauma of losing a close person could do and how it could affect his common sense. He knew everyone would tell him that he was being delusional if he’d ever dare to tell anyone. But how could he stop thinking that what if it hadn’t been just his imagination? What if there really was a tiny chance for his lover to still be alive...?

 

While sitting on the bed’s edge, silently groaning in pain, his mind was only getting hazier. What if it was him who was about to lose his mind? Because if it had been Hyukjae, why would he ever shoot him?

 

The possibilities were endless, but how could he move on without making sure what it all was about? No one ever found the body, after all. There had always been the nagging feeling that something wasn't as it seemed.

 

Donghae bit his lip to the point he tasted the irony flavor inside his mouth. He stood up to pull a black t-shirt, having to halt midway when the pain forced him to lean against the doorjamb. Cursing the pain, he shut his eyes and bit his teeth so hard he felt water coming through his eyelids before he was able to move again.

 

 

***

 

 

The familiar hallways and the route to a certain room were still memorized inside his mind when he strolled towards an office at the end of the second floor’s west side. Donghae wasn’t even sure what he was going to say when he finally stopped behind a door and knocked it thrice. When he heard the well-known humm, he opened the door and stepped in. His gaze immediately landed on a man sitting behind his desk presumably trying to sort out some official papers.

 

If Donghae would have started to compare Yunho’s looks with the bit intimidating person he remembered from the day they met for the first time against this man here, he could see the changes that the past year had done to him. Seeing the darkened circles and deepened wrinkles around his eyes told anyone that the months after the fateful race had left their mark on him. But he could have said the exact same thing about any other member who had ever been close to the leader of Black Diamonds.

 

When the name crossed his mind, he realized that the sub-group had deceased along its chief. The thought made him swallow, and he tried to push the thought back into the back of his mind.

 

“You should be resting.”

 

The brunet closed the door after him, approaching the mahogany desk as he heard Yunho’s stern voice. His eyes roamed onto the walls and the bookshelf filling it at his left side. The stitched wound hurt, and he pressed his palm onto the wound. He wished it would sooth the pain.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“You were shot. You lost a lot of blood.”

 

Donghae didn’t exactly note the way Yunho was now examining his essence. But he was quite sure how the man on his late thirties tried to get into conclusion about his well-being. When he thought he saw that Yunho was about to say something, he decided that it wasn’t the time to talk about his mental health today.

 

“Have you found out anything?”

 

With a sigh, Yunho closed his lips in defeat and evened out the stack of papers before putting them away.

 

“Casper contacted me few hours ago,” Yunho grumbled. “At first he was cursing us to the lowest layer of hell before I told him that you had been shot too. One of his bodyguards that had gotten shot had died an hour before the call. Another had also gotten badly injured.”

 

Donghae nodded.

 

“He couldn’t come to any conclusion of who could have been targeting us. To be honest, it could have been anyone or any little gang that has the slightest grudge against us or Casper's people.”

 

“How is everyone?” the brunet asked, trying to act off all the questions inside his own head. He couldn’t tell anyone – at least not yet.

 

“Fortunately, no one else of us got hurt,” Yunho sighed, as if he only now realized how lucky they’d been. “I’ve send few of our guys to ask around if people have heard anything.”

 

Donghae hummed as he played with a decorative item on top of the corner of Shiwang’s leader’s desk. Yunho gave him a glance, but didn’t say anything when his fellow comrade sailed to the wide window. It showed the big, snowless yard and the warehouse behind the mansion. A clock was ticking somewhere on the other side of the room. The papers shifted on the elder’s hands again didn’t go unnoticed from Donghae’s ears when he came to a decision in his head. No one would ask anything when he made up a reason for his doings.

 

“I’ve thought about staying, here, for a while,” he finally revealed. He noticed how Yunho’s hands stopped moving from the lack of any sounds, and he turned to look at the black haired man who had already turned to eye Donghae. Yunho didn’t seem to think that as a bad idea, as he didn’t oppose to it immediately. Soon he nodded with a soft reply.

 

“Sure,” he turned his gaze down, and Donghae walked back to the other side of the desk. He didn’t sit down on the black leathered chair. He wasn’t there to talk, and he assumed that Yunho would understand his voiceless request.

 

The latter was biting his lower lip, thoughtful, before he continued. “I can ask someone to stay with you—if you want, I mean,” he muttered. Donghae knew that Yunho was a concerned friend, and he could never think bad of that. “I have to head back though, but you are very free to take some time for yourself.”

 

“Just for few days – so I don’t think I’m in need of a babysitter for that,” Donghae started good-heartedly, “I haven’t...visited Donghwa in a long time. I doubt that our foster parents would have taken any care of his grave.”

 

“I only have one conditon: let Leeteuk check on your wound every 48 hours,” Yunho replied.

 

He gave Yunho a lopsided smile before he headed to the door.

 

“But if there’s anything, I’m just a few hours away at Busan.”

 

Donghae gripped the handle of the door and pulled it down.

 

“Thanks. For understanding.”

 

“Take a car for yourself from the warehouse so no one needs to come here to pick you up! Now, get lost.” Yunho snickered while clicking away on his laptop.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

 

***

 

 

The rest of the members had already left back to Busan, leaving Donghae behind to execute his plan of finding the truth about the red headed man. But there was a problem – he didn’t exactly know how he was actually going to do that.

 

It had gotten colder when the clock was approaching nine. With the lowering temperature came the piercing north wind. It gashed along Donghae’s neck when he stepped forward at the graveyard. The place hadn’t changed a bit, but due the season everything had already withered to death, leaving the place dark and gloomy. Taking the path which he had always taken, he soon arrived to the farther corner of the yard at the second row of the upper hill. At the tombstone last to the left side.

 

With a heavy pit down on his stomach he stopped in front of it, swallowing before he took few steps closer to crouch down beside it. The white, small wooden cross had already started to rack and ruin; there had been no one to take care and to keep away all the weeds and other plants.

 

“I’m sorry,” Donghae muttered with a tired exhale. He started tearing off the plants that had started to wrap around the cross and throwing them away - not caring about the pain under his jacket. He stared at the engraved letters until he had to lower his head when he felt the burning sensation in his eyes. The brunet sniffled and wiped his already running nose, leaving out a dry laugh.

 

“First mom and dad, then you...”

 

A strong blow of wind blew over him, making him tighten his leather jacket around his neck. The cold made his wound ache.

 

“Do you know the feeling when something doesn’t feel quite right?” he asked, though, not waiting for an answer for obvious reasons, “Hyukjae is supposed to be dead, but ever since he... I mean, I know that you are no longer here. But it doesn’t feel the same with him – yet everyone else thinks so, and... I think I saw him yesterday. But I can’t tell anyone. He shot me, Donghwa. I knew it was... I saw him. Why would he do this...?”

 

He didn’t notice how the sky had gone gray, and how the dark clouds now looked like they were about to rip open.

 

“I have to find out if it’s really him.”

 

Donghae sighed again, feeling foolish when he was talking to a wooden cross. He stood up, closing his eyes and tucking his hands into his jacket’s pockets.

 

He let his head fall backwards, taking in a deep breath and recognizing the scent of winter in it. The brunet tried to think about a way, but how could he track down a person he wasn’t even sure that existed?

 

He remembered all the people he’d gotten to know along the way, and it didn’t take long before a person came to his mind.

 

When he opened his eyes, he felt a cold wetness on his nose and soon saw that it had started snowing. The coldness didn’t register, yet he felt anything but warm. The weather seemed to fit how he felt inside. How he had been feeling for a long time. And somehow, the shot had done the opposite of killing him. It had given him a hint of purpose. A spark of life. At the moment it was everything. He couldn’t care less if it would kill him in the end.

 

Right now, he needed answers. At first, he was going to head back to Seoul.


	5. Gamangnara

5\. Gamangnara

 

It had been a long time since the last time Donghae had visited this place. I wasn’t the exact same place a certain thing had ignited, but it reminded him about the time he had gotten drugged, and it brought his mind to another, warmer memory which he could never forget.

The bar — and a simple deli at daytime — welcomed him with a dark yet harmonious feeling as he walked over the threshold. He proceeded to the counter, noticing a familiar looking man behind it filling an espresso cup for a customer. He had crossed paths with Zhoumi only a few times after staying at Busan, but every time they had met, the man had given out the same friendly sensation.

There were enough people to fulfill half of the deli’s seats, but Donghae went straight to the bar and took a seat on top of one of the leathered stools. When the tall man finally gave him a swift glance, it only took a mere second before the recognition hit the barista. Eyes spread wide and mouth curling up to a smile, Zhoumi shortened the distance between them with almost overjoyed steps.

“Donghae!” he called out as he slammed his hands against the table on his own side in delight. “What a surprise to see you up here in Seoul! It’s been a while.”

Donghae let out a chuckle, thin lips quirking upwards, yet something in his eyes kept telling a story that there were things he would have to share despite if he liked or not.

“Indeed, it has…” he continued with a sigh, eyes now gazing down to the sticky wood of the counter, fingertips drawing something on the surface.

“What brings you here? I thought you were staying at Busan?” Zhoumi’s voice didn’t lack enthusiasm, but the thin frown over his forehead unfolded the fact that he could read the younger’s expressions quite well. “Not for vacation, huh?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Donghae sighed deeply. ”I need to ask for a favor.” His eyes visited the barista’s for a meaningful time, until he bended lower and closer to the other man, arms crossed on top of the table.

“Anything,” the man immediately answered, taking a coffee cup amongst the heap of others. “Can I serve you some coffee? You look like you’re in need of some.” Despite the question, he was already pouring some of the black, good smelling liquid into the shining white cup before the visitor was able to state otherwise. “Milk?”

“Thank you.”

The steaming cup of fresh, dark roasted coffee was placed in front of the young man with a smile right after.

“There you go.”

Donghae took a sip of the premium coffee, humming in satisfaction as he put the cup down.

”Have you heard any talk about the shooting that took place few days ago?”

Zhoumi’s eyebroes rose. ”Right to the point, hmm?”

Donghae took another sip of the coffee, giving a glance outside, as if seeking anything out of the ordinary. He tried to hide it, but the shooting had left him a bit anxious.

”You were shot.”

”Words move fast around here.”

”You hear a lot being a barista under Shiwang’s watch,” Zhoumi noted, leaning against the tabletop. ”But yes, there’s been some debate.”

Donghae nodded. He couldn’t just ask if anyone’s seen Hyukjae. It would sound ridiculous.

”Do you know anything about a red haired, rather new face around here?”

The barista furrowed his eyebrows.

”Was he one of the shooters?”

”Maybe. At least that’s what I think I saw there,” Donghae muttered, ”I just want to find the ones responsible of this.”

”I understand. Let me ask around. I’ll get back to you, is that ok?”

”I appreciate it,” Donghae said, finishing his coffee.

”Anytime.”

It didn’t take long before he disappeared out of the deli up to the streets on the back of a matte black Ducati 899 motorbike.

 

***

 

The sweat dripped down his face and back as his fists met with the bag over and over again.

He had been hoping that exercise and focusing on doing something could help him get the tangled thoughts away from his head, but it didn’t seem to help. He couldn’t drift his mind from the images that had been trying to mess with him ever since he fired that shot. The shot that had made him freeze and drop the gun from his hands, when it had pierced through the back of the man. He hadn’t been able to even stand on straight legs. His pulse had skyrocketed and he had felt the gauze of dizziness crawling upon him. He had tried to make it stop, but only a bit of the haze had left even when everything became still and silent.

Ghost punched the bag even harder, not intending of stopping soon. His muscles were already sore, and his bare knuckles red from chafes, but he didn’t care. How could a man he didn’t even remember affect him like this? It hadn’t been his first shot after he had started working for Gain, and never had it felt like this before.

Somehow, he had started to wonder that maybe he wanted to know more about the gang he had belonged to in the first place.

The most disturbing part was the fact that he couldn’t understand these feelings. He couldn’t understand the meaning of feeling dizzy after firing, or the heavy pit down on his stomach, nor the huge bile that had settled on his chest. He wanted answers for the first time after waking up from the coma. Yet he was actually more afraid of what lied beneath. Was he ready to find out which kind of a man this body belonged to? Was he ready to face the established and not-so pretty truths that were buried within him?

G.O stood behind the railing of the loft at the gym he had stopped by since he knew he would find the red head from there.

He thought they were already friends, yet the man seemed to withdraw to himself once in a while. It had happened again, and G.O didn’t think he had the privilege to invade Ghost’s privacy even when he felt concerned about the male. After the ‘raid’ Ghost and Hyunjoong had taken care off, the latter had asked him to look after the other. Hyunjoong had felt there was something the newest addition didn’t tell them.

But G.O wasn’t sure what exactly he should be looking for. He didn’t know this man at all for starters. He didn’t know much about his previous life; only what he had heard from Gain, like everyone else. Including the red head himself. G.O couldn’t imagine what Ghost had gone through, yet something told him that there would be something more behind it all. Taking into account the fact how secretive Gain had always seemed to be about it, he couldn’t stop wondering why would have his own people betrayed him like that.

He inhaled, keeping his eyes on the red head training against the punching bag on the first floor. For a moment the punches and light panting were the only things he could heard, until soft footsteps reached his ears. He didn’t turn around to look, but he had a guess.

“How’s it going?”

“It’s been, what, a bit over six months since he got out of the hospital and he’s already in better shape than I’ve ever been. Isn’t that a bit depressing?” G.O muttered, a small smirk mixed with a bitter scowl on his face. Hyunjoong stopped beside him and leaned against the metal railing.

“You could try to cut off that snacking,” the brunet pointed out, flashing his finger towards the small bag of chips hanging between G.O’s fingers.

“Fuck you,” the one year older man huffed.

“You wish.”

Scoffing again, G.O drifted his eyes somewhere around the other side of the room.

“So what exactly happened out there?” he asked in mild curiosity, raising an eyebrow at his comrade. “When he shot that Lee?”

Hyunjoong sighed.

“Nothing special, actually. Ghost shot him as told, but immediately after that he dropped his gun, acting like he was having a sort of a panic attack. As if something snapped in his head.” He remembered seeing how the red head had almost stumbled down on his peripheral vision as Hyunjoong had fired his gun few times at the Chinese men. “I was focused on my own targets, I didn’t watch him so closely.”

“Maybe it triggered some of his forgotten memories.”

“I thought that too,” Hyunjoong muttered.

They stayed silent for a moment, until the younger decided to voice out some more of his thoughts that had been mingling in his mind since morning. It had been three days since the raid, and he had heard people talking. An overheard conversation of Gain talking to someone had started to bother him.

”Gain’s pissed.”

”What?” G.O threw a handful of paprika chips into his mouth, before turning to face Hyunjoong with a frown.

”I heard her talking over the phone, and she seemed rather angry that the raid haven’t had the effect ’they’ were hoping for.”

”What does that mean?”

”How the hell I’m supposed to know everything?” Hyunjoong barked.

G.O went silent, and the expression on his face turned rather sour. As if something was ticking in his head.

”But seriously, who was she talking to?” the older asked, wiping his fingers onto his black tank top. ”If you think about it, we don’t actually know that much about Gain herself either.”

Hyunjoong stood straighter, crossing his arms. He had been part of this gang almost as long as he could remember, and he rarely had to question anything.

”Probably the boss. Gain’s been the underboss of Gamangnara for five years, and so far, I’ve yet to doubt her abilities.”

”Have you ever met him?”

”No,” Hyunjoong grunted, ”I don’t need to.”

”So you believe in Gamangnara blindly?”

 

”I didn’t say that.”

 

G.O crunched the chips bag into his fist. ”I’ve only been a member for so long, and mostly because I had nowhere else to go.”

 

”My father and my older brother were Gamangnara.”

 

”So it’s your turn. Did you ever think about doing anything else?”

 

Hyunjoong clasped his hands back on to the railing, gritting his teeth, as G.O observed the movement on his jaw.

 

They both turned their gazes towards the red head who had gone to drink some water.

 

“Gain has been flying awfully lot between Seoul and Osaka in these few months,” G.O mentioned with a hint of suspicion in his tone.

His comrade hummed, admitting that he had noticed the same thing yet not agreeing with G.O completely.

”I’ve been told the boss has some important business over there,” Hyunjoong stated, yet he didn’t hope to continue talking about the matter.

”Is that so.”

 

They shared a look before their eyes locked back to Ghost who was now pulling off his black wife-beater, revealing all the deep scars on his backside. When he turned back around and saw the two others up on the second floor, G.O swayed his hand for Ghost to take a note of.

 

Few minutes passed before Ghost met the two at the lobby. A hoodie had been pulled over his torso, and colleges had changed into jeans.

 

”Are we going somewhere?” he asked, hanging a jacket over his shoulder.

 

When G.O was about to answer, a phone rang. Hyunjoong was fast to answer it, taking a few step to the side. Instead, G.O just pointed his head towards the door.

 

Ghost raised an eyebrow at Hyunjoong, but followed G.O out and through the parking lot behind the building.

 

They stopped next to their cars, waiting for the youngest to end the call. It was already dark outside, yet all the street lamps and neon lights made the scene glimmer in yellowish light. The snow that had fallen down yesterday hadn’t stayed, thus the city was all black and gloomy again. Before in the afternoon the rain hit the city, and now the streets were swimming yet the wind remained cold in the late November evening, remaining to hold the city in a grip that didn't seem to let any sunlight in until the spring would come.

 

Ghost stood on his place and let his eyes wander around the concrete jungle around them. He hadn’t been able to get his mind off his constant nightmares, nor the distant encounter with the man he didn’t know what to think about. The nightmares had only increased, with bits and pieces of some happenings he was never able to put into place as he woke up. He only remembered the agonizing feeling of being lost, and the certain type of emptiness that filled him every time he woke up. It was as if something was eating him alive inside, and he didn’t know how to get rid of the beast.

 

G.O stood next to him as he smoke his cigarette and stole glances of Hyunjoong at the phone few meters away from them. It wouldn’t be anyone’s first thought to think about him as a criminal. His features were rather soft. There was something more intimidating about Hyunjoong. He took a long inhale at the same time when the younger brunet finally ended the call and stepped back to the two.

 

“And there went my beer off the drain again,” Hyunjoong grumbled and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

 

“What did she wanted?” G.O asked, stubbing his cigarette to a close pond of dirty water.

 

“Gotta go grab some packet for her. You guys want to go with me to The Loop?” the brunet suggested, he could use the company.

 

“The Loop?” Ghost asked, as if he was waken up from stupor. He might have heard the name before, but he couldn’t recall what it was about. G.O was already at his car, jingling the keys from his fingers. The copper colored Mitsubishi Lancer EVO X stood out in the dimness like a sore thumb. Ghost had to wonder what it was like to drive it.

 

“You haven’t been there yet. It’s an abandoned factory zone halfway to Incheon,” G.O muttered as he was opening his EVO's door. “Closed streets where a lot of people like us hangs out…”

 

Ghost raised his eyebrows. He didn’t notice the meaningful looks the two others were able to share though.

 

“Girls, music, booze…” the brunet recited with a joyful grin. ”Most importantly, cars.”

 

A black beauty flashed through Ghost’s mind. He could only mull over if it was a piece of his past.

 

 

***

 

 

Zhoumi happened to take a look outside as a black Ducati parked in front of his shop. He hadn’t noticed the bike few days ago, but as the driver hopped down from it and pulled his helmet off, he realized who it belonged to. He hadn’t thought Donghae much as a biker, but it seemed to suit him well. Though, it seemed the guy was still avoiding the sports cars he used to love so much.

 

A bell over the front door jingled as the Xiezhi leader stepped inside. Zhoumi kept wiping the bartop, nodding Donghae welcome.

 

Donghae’s dark brown hair was tossled from the helmet, but he looked quite well otherwise. He had a denim collared shirt under his olive jacket, and dark jeans. The dark circles around his eyes weren’t as bad, and Zhoumi got a feeling as if something might have changed.

 

”You had some information?”

 

”Yes,” Zhoumi replied. He put the rag down from his hand, leaning against the wooden table. ”Digging about a ’red headed shooter’ wasn’t easy, but it seems there’s not so many guys like that around.”

 

”What did you find out?” Donghae inquired.

 

”That he’s a ghost.”

 

”What?”

 

Zhoumi chuckled. ”He hasn’t been in Seoul for long. Not a lot of people have heard of him. And people literally call him Ghost.”

 

The young leader frowned.

 

”But it appears he belongs to a group called Gamangnara.”

 

”I’ve never heard of it.” Donghae massaged his temple.

 

Zhoumi started to pour coffee into a cup, following with milk, before he put it in front of Donghae. The man mouthed a silent thanks before taking a sip.

 

”Well, they aren’t very well known. But I’ve heard they’re capable of being vicious. Everything people have told about them makes me think they might be a part of some bigger syndicate. Their work is stealthy. It’s as if they’re playing chess. Think about the shooting,” Zhoumi paused, ”There wasn’t a lot to gain for them, materially speaking. This wasn’t about money. It was something else. Probably an attempt to cause friction between Shiwang and ZX, but why? What are they after?”

 

Donghae stared at his coffee. He wondered if Yunho knew about this, and if he’d heard of the group in question. But Zhoumi was right. The reason for the shooting had been such a big question mark.

 

”Do you know where I could find this Ghost?” he asked.

 

Zhoumi took a moment to think, and looked a tad suspicious. ”You might find him at The Loop. People have seen Gamangnara’s people there sometimes. They’re racing tonight. You aren’t going after him alone, are you? He almost killed you.”

 

”I’ll take some backup,” Donghae lied. ”Thanks for your help.”

 

”I hope you’ll catch him.”

 

Me too, Donghae thought.

 

 

AN: I could say this chapter is 50-50 old and new.   
I hope you enjoy. :) Please leave a comment!


	6. Inception

6\. Inception

 

The lights and all the exhaust humes, not least the cars, were everywhere. People were spurring and proding at the sides of the speedway; the music was loud; alcohol flowed and colorful cars spun here and there, leaving and arriving. Tuned cars with rainbow lights, motors clamoring, with the most imaginative paintings.

 

Ghost instantly felt like this was something familiar. He hadn’t noticed how he’d stopped dead on his tracks as he’d gotten out of G.O’s Mitsubishi.

 

The mere sound of a sports car accelerating and launching onto momentum was like music to his ears. It made him feel alive.

 

”Are you alright, man?”

 

G.O’s voice woke him up from his daze, and Ghost lowered his eyes.

 

”Yeah. It just hit me that this is something I know.”

 

”The Loop?”

 

”The whole essence of this,” Ghost gasped. ”I’ve done this before.”

 

G.O looked at his friend long and hard. Someone must’ve flipped a switch. There was such a change in the man that he thought he could almost feel him shake with excitement.

 

”I guess that’s possible. Shiwang and Xiezhi’s people are known in the scene.”

 

The red headed man frowned.

 

”You were a member, so it doesn’t seem too far-fetched to think that you could’ve raced then.” G.O closed the driver’s door, watching as a black Camaro closed in on them, before it parked next to his car. Hyunjoong killed his car’s engine, stepping out. Somehow, his hair seemed to have roughened up during the ride.

 

”Such a ladie’s man,” G.O laughed, quirking up an eyebrow for his buddy who soon gave him the stink eye as he straightened his jacket.

 

”Shut up.”

 

The air smelled like gasoline. There was music coming from somewhere, and it sounded like r’n’b. For Ghost, it was hypnotizing. He couldn’t hear what G.O and Hyunjoong were talking about. Shivers ran down his spine, and there was a distant echo of metal clashing in the back of his head. Spinning image of a car, of cars, disappearing into darkness. Shattering. Of glass, of pain. A dimned picture of a face.

 

”I need to go see a friend, can you watch Ghost so he doesn’t do anything stupid?” G.O smirked, tucking his hands into his jacket’s pockets.

 

”I’m not a babysitter,” Hyunjoong grunted.

 

”Thanks!” G.O replied before hurrying past the sea of people.

 

There was a gathering of people beside the speedway, and Ghost eyed them curiously. It seemed a man was organizing something, and Ghost soon realized he was probably responsible for tonight’s racing.

 

Hyunjoong had lit a cigarette for himself, and as he pawed his phone so intensively, he didn’t notice how Ghost had started to walk away from him. As a loud growl of motor’s noise took him back to reality, Hyunjoong realized where the younger man was marching towards to.

 

”Oh, hell no!” he shouted, for no one to hear.

 

Ghost was closing in on the crowd.

 

The wind tousled the red hair to and fro, and it was far colder than it seemed. Some parts of the roads were probably on black ice, and it would make racing even more dangerous. Ghost didn’t seem to care, as the words rolled out of his lips: ”I want in.”

 

Hyunjoong ran after hearing those ridiculous words, clasping onto the sleeve of Ghost’s hoodie. His eyes were wide and rapid. The man responsible of the races, burly with a bald head, scoffed at them as if he were looking at two children.

 

”Are you crazy?! No, no, no,” Hyunjoong pulled his comrade aside, sighing deeply. ”How would you know how to do that?”

 

Ghost stared at him. There was a fire at the bottom of his eyes, and it scared the hell out of Hyunjoong.

 

”I’m not sure, but somehow I know I would,” Ghost muttered. ”Like an instinct.”

 

The brunet shook his head, taking a deep breath. He doubted he could find the words to make Ghost reconsider; it looked like he had made his mind.

 

”If you make a mistake, you could die out there.” Hyunjoong could only hear a scoff. In front of the fire, he saw dullness. Like an uncut diamond. ”And you don’t even care, do you?”

 

The red head licked his lips like a cat.

 

”How many lives do you think you have left? You’re not a damned cat,” Hyunjoong grumbled, crossing his hands over his leather jacket.

 

The waving sounds of cars accelerating were like a call of the wild from the man who only knew so little about himself. But this was something, he was sure, that belonged to him. It was a part of him. He needed to get out there. A pack of four sports cars disappeared behind a turn like mad greyhounds chasing a rabbit. He could feel the adrenaline inside him.

 

”You won’t give me a choice, will ya?” Hyunjoong continued. He clasped his hands onto the back of his own neck, grumbling to himself as he lent his head backwards in thought.

 

”No,” Ghost murmured softly. ”It’s the only thing that feels like a distant memory.”

 

Hyunjoong groaned. He would be in so much trouble if he let a raw driver in to the game. He was rather sure he would regret his clement nature later that night.

 

”Okay, okay. Okay,” he started, swallowing as he searched for the words. ”I let you drive, but not here. I need to see you got this.”

 

Ghost nodded, and a rare smile grew onto his lips. It made him look like a different person, and it confused Hyunjoong. He hadn’t seen that kind of a smile before.

 

”How do I get a car?”

 

”You borrow mine. But lord save your soul if you even scratch it.”

 

“Your Camaro?”

 

“Yes. Do you hear what I’m saying? If you reck that car, I swear...”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ghost didn’t seem to listen no more. He was already walking towards Hyunjoong’s beloved. “Give me ‘em keys.”

 

“Oh, no, I’ll drive us further away.”

 

“Okay then.”

 

 

They were in the middle of nowhere, although it had been just a fifteen minute drive from the The Loop to get there. There were nothing in near sight, only some distant highway noises and glimmers of headlights glowing at the dark blue sky.

 

Ghost stared back at Hyunjoong as the latter kept staring at him, his arm held against the man’s chest as if he was protecting a vault.

 

“Just be careful. Please.”

 

“I will. I know what I’m doing,” Ghost replied softly, and Hyunjoong reluctantly gave him his keyes.

 

The car was black velvet with two crimson stripes on the bonnet. It was a mean looking car, and Ghost loved it.

 

“Hop in,” he mouthed, already sitting down on it himself. Hyunjoong hurried along, because Ghost was fast to ignite it. The engine growled angrily as the red head gave it some gas. “Are you ready?”

 

“To die? Hell no. Please don’t kill me,” Hyunjoong cried, and tucked in the seatbelt.

 

“I won’t.”

 

The Camaro thundered forward.

 

“Let’s see what you got,” Ghost smirked, giving it gas, more and more. The revolution counter rose fast.

 

Hyunjoong hid his face behind his palms as the car went faster. A drift of smoke trailed after them. The number on the speedometer went higher. The man didn’t believe he’d let the other do this. It was insane.

 

Ghost turned the wheel, and the car rapidly spun around. Hyunjoong cried out. The red head didn’t seem to notice. He was enchanted by the power, the force, the velocity. The car had a nice feeling, yet it didn’t sit quite right with him. The leathered steering wheel and the digital lights gave him a feeling of familiarity though. He had done this before. Probably so many times.

 

He gave it more gas, and the car howled. He turned the wheel, and soon the car flew onto a beautiful, perfect figure eight. There was no fear, no limit. He felt free. The wheels screeched in the night and the headlights followed the motion. The ground was left with a hover of exhaust fumes. Dark path dug in to the ground below them. He let the car drift, giving gas and gas and gas. His hands palmed the gear shift, and the car spun a tighter round around before it rocketed a staight line forward.

 

Flashing, green lights flared inside his head. A black, majestic vehicle. What was he trying to remember? He couldn’t grasp onto it.

 

Ghost shifted the gear, and the wheel turned. The Camaro spun into an eight again.

 

He really felt alive for the first time since he woke up.

 

After a while, Ghost slowed down and soon stopped the car at the same spot Hyunjoong had driven it. It became quiet. Ghost felt relaxed, and somehow, more content.

 

“Not a scratch,” he said after a minute, when Hyunjoong had caught his breath. The man on his right side let his shoulders down.

 

“That was,” Hyunjoong ran his fingers through his hair, “Insane.”

 

Ghost chuckled.

 

“Man… I’ve seen great drivers—but you—this is something beyond. You haven’t driven in a year and you just… Just like that...”

 

It was true, and Ghost didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t driven like this after waking up. It had given him a piece of himself back, yet the rest wast still missing. His mind had really locked those memories deep inside his head, that it made him wonder if he would ever gain most of them back at all. It had been over six months since got out of the hospital, and this was one of the biggest pieces he had gotten so far.

 

Suddenly, a phone rang.

 

“Damn, it’s Gain. I think we need to head back.”

 

 

***

 

 

The place brought back memories, but Donghae tried to shut those thoughts out of his mind. The loud noises of vehicles revving up, and all the people, the smell of gasoline… He wasn’t quite sure if he was missing it, or if it was too painful to think about.

 

With a wary sigh, Donghae put his helmet on the handle of his bike and stood up. He was there just to find the man, and he wanted to focus on that.

 

But as he started to wander around, he could see how some people took a notice of him. He wasn’t quite sure how people knew his face, but it seemed some of them did. He was the new leader of Xiezhi, after all. The gang which had been in the scene for quite a while. And from those looks, he couldn’t grasp if people were afraid of him, suspicious, or unnerved. It had been a while since he’d been there, or even quite active in the scene.

 

But he wasn’t there to reminisce. He needed to know if the red head was there, and he needed to make sure if his mind had been playing games with him or was he actually alive after all this time. Hyukjae being alive felt surreal, but at the same time, he had never lost hope. There had always been a nag at the back of his head, shouting at him.

 

How on earth was he going to find him in this crowd? There was so much going on, people going and coming, cars, noises, music. He decided he had to scout the place from top to bottom. Asking questions might not be a good idea, if he didn’t know who he was talking with.

 

With a deep breath, he started searching.

 

At some point, when his head hurt and he was rather close to giving up, his phone vibrated inside his jacket. He took it out, seeing it was Yunho calling, and answered.

 

“Hey, Donghae,” the leader started.

 

“Hey. What’s up?” Donghae replied, eyes still focused on jumping from person to person.

 

“Where are you?” the man asked, a little curious, but there was some worry in his tone.

 

“At The Loop…” he answered hastily, almost clasping his hands onto a shoulder that belonged to man with reddish hair. But at the last second he realized it wasn’t who he was searching for, and he pulled his hand back.

 

“The Loop? How come you ended up there?”

 

Donghae bit his lip, clenching his fingers tigher against his palm.

 

“Just… Needed to clear my head.”

 

Yunho didn’t answer right away.

 

“I just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten the ceremony in a few days.”

 

“Shit,” Donghae cursed. He hadn’t even thought about the whole thing since the shooting happened. He hadn’t liked the whole idea in the first place, but it seemed somewhat important for the others. It seemed they needed the party, and he couldn’t blame them for it.

 

“You forgot,” Yunho chuckled.

 

“Yeah. It’s just been...a lot going on,” Donghae mumbled, eyeing the crowd, as if for one last time. The whole part had been planned for him, as after the tragedy last year and becoming Xiezhi’s leader, they hadn’t had the time for his proper affiliation to Shiwang. It wasn’t his idea, and he’d tried to explain he didn’t need it, but this one tradition was something they wanted to keep.

 

“You better be there,” Shiwang’s leader laughed. “The others…they are so excited because… To be honest it has been a while since they’ve had any fun.”

 

“I’ll be there.” Donghae felt a bang in his chest. He wasn’t the only one who had gone through a lot the past year; the others had also lost a friend, and he hadn’t made it any easier for them. He had been a horrible friend. He had pushed most of them away, and built a wall around himself. How many times had he asked how his friends had been doing? Donghae felt quilty. His friends deserved more. They deserved the party, it was the least he could offer them after everything they’d been through.

 

“Good.” Yunho ended the call.

 

Donghae stood there helplessly. The lookout was a total bust. The damned man really seemed like a ghost. How would he ever find him in a big city like Seoul?

 

 

***

 

 

It was late when Ghost and Hyunjoong finally reached their headquarters. The house was silent, but a warm light shimmered at the end of the hallway. They could hear some distant steps echoing inside the library.

 

“What’s it about?” Ghost inquired before grabbing on the door.

 

“I have no idea. It sounded urgent,” the older responded, as he walked into the spacious room.

 

Gain halted on her steps as she saw the two members stepping into the room. Her features were hard as rock to read, and her lips were in a thin line. But soon a vaque smile visited her lips for half a second.

 

“Where have you two been?”

 

Hyunjoong seemed surprised at the question.

 

“We were at The Loop,” he started, “I got your packet, by the way.”

 

“Good,” Gain said, but her answer didn’t really tell if it was positive or negative. She was a tough one to understand, and not many did. Something in her dark, deep eyes glinted suspiciously, and her eyes gazed at Ghost for a minute. It unnerved the man, to say the least. Even if she had rescued him, Ghost didn’t have much of an opinion about her.

 

“Hyunjoong,” she continued, “Would you please excuse us?”

 

All about her was like a cold shover.

 

“Sure,” Hyunjoong hesitated. His words shook. He gave his comrade the eyebrow when the boss didn’t notice, but he exited the room quietly after.

 

“Ghost,” Gain started again, a tad softer this time. “There’s something I want you to do the day after tomorrow.”

 

“What is it?” He didn’t hesitate. He wasn’t curious. It was most likely just another order, a task.

 

“I’ve heard Shiwang’s people are holding a sort of a graduation ceremony for a certain member that night. I need you there.” Her eyes were cold. Colder. Like ice. “As the raid didn’t quite accomplish what we’d originally wanted, I want you to take it step further.”

 

“Okay,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t understood what the raid had supposed to do in the first place, but he assumed he was still very low in the ranks that it was need-to-know information. Maybe Gain wanted him to prove himself for them. “So what am I to do?”

 

“A kill shot.”


	7. Get Down

7\. Get Down

 

The smoky black, collared shirt under a black blazer definitely made him look more like an important person. Heechul had insisted that he’d wear something nice, and the man had even ended up styling his hair for the night. The clothing felt unfamiliar on him, and Donghae realized he hadn’t given much thought for his clothes during the past year. He looked more adult; more of the person he was supposed to be.

 

”You look...different,” Heechul gasped as he eyed Donghae from head to toe. The older man hadn’t changed that much. A red checkered jacket, and a white printed t-shirt covered his upper body. Only his mahogany hair was shorter, but his extravagant style was still a big part of him.

 

”Bad or worse?” Donghae rumbled back, turning around in front of the mirror in his old room, at their headquarters in Incheon.

 

Heechul chuckled. ”Bad – in a good way. You’re not a high school sweetheart no more, Lee Donghae.”

 

The young leader huffed. Heechul took a sip of his glass, which Donghae had noticed, held champagne in it. The party hadn’t even started yet.

 

He had, indeed, been a different person few years ago. He wasn’t that lost and lonely boy anymore. Yet he wasn’t exactly sure who he was these days either.

 

”Do you think it’s really wise to do this after a week from the shooting?” he asked, as he took a pair of dark sunglasses from the dresser.

 

Heechul put his glass down. ”There’s always gonna be something. You gotta stop that brooding, it’s time for you to have some fun for once!” The man slapped the back of Donghae’s head playfully, which made the younger groan.

 

A loud honk echoed from the outside.

 

”Come on, time to go.” Heechul grabbed Donghae’s arm, and pulled him along.

 

It was ”his” night. He was supposed to have fun, and finally be an official member of Shiwang. He had to stop thinking the certain man, who probably wasn’t even who he thought he was. The visit to The Loop had made him reconsider if all he’d seen at the shooting had actually been his damn head playing games with him. He’d hoped so hard that Hyukjae could be alive, that he must have started to believe in those thoughts. But it had been a year, and the only lead was the red headed ghost. Maybe it was time for him to start moving on.

 

 

Devil was a place of Heechul’s doing, his own bar that was to be open to public the next day, but for today, it was reserved only for them. It was no short of luxurious, a place with a dark and mysterious touch; mainly targeted for people with money from the up of the ladder. Black and gold clors and furniture made the place, and a large, beautiful piano stood at the center of it.

 

The music was soft in the background when Donghae walked in right after Heechul who was now circling at the dance floor, laughing.

 

”Amazing, isn’t it?” Heechul smirked, throwing his hands up in the air.

 

Donghae took of his sunglasses for a minute.

 

”I’m impressed,” Changmin suddenly replied behind them, and greeted them with a flashing smile.

 

”As you should,” Heechul noted before he waltzed towards the bar. Behind it high shelves were filled with alcohol and all sorts of ostentatious bottles of it.

 

Changmin rolled his eyes, before sitting down on a stool. ”Everyone else are on their way, they should be here shortly.”

 

Donghae nodded, but his thoughts were a little thin on the ceremony. Something was missing, and he very well knew what it was. Hyukjae should’ve been there; he would’ve wanted to be.

 

Heechul turned up the music volume and took three shot glasses from behind the counter. A crystal clear liquid was poured into them, and Donghae noticed the bottle which had Vodka written on it. Heechul gave them each a glass with a mischievous face. ”Let’s get this party started.”

 

After an hour, people seemed to have arrived. A long table consisting of all kinds of delicious cocktails had been set at the other side of the room, and Zhoumi had taken place behind the bar. Music had become even louder, and everyone seemed more relaxed. Sungmin and Kyuhyun were talking beside the bar, before Yesung joined them. Shindong was laughing at something Henry had said with a plate of different sushi on his hand, and Changmin argued with Yunho, a playful gleam in his dark eyes. Donghae leant against the bar, a little smile visiting his lips. It wasn’t such a regular visitor, but tonight, he felt slightly better. These were the people he trusted and had grown to love like a family.

 

”Some champagne for the guest of honor?” Zhoumi’s voice came next from him.

 

Donghae eyed the bottle the man was holding. ”What the hell,” he agreed, watching as the light golden liquid was poured into a tall glass.

 

”So,” Zhoumi continued, ”Did you guys find what you were looking for?”

 

It was a close call, as the champagne almost ended up choking him, but he succeeded to hide the cough.

 

”No,” Donghae replied, ”He wasn’t there that night.”

 

Zhoumi pursed his lips, opening himself a beer.

 

”Shame. But you’ll find the man responsible, eventually.”

 

Donghae hummed. Yunho had started to gather people around him, and Donghae felt a sudden wave of relief. He had lied to Zhoumi, and he hoped the conversation would be over. He had done it only to protect the others. They didn’t need to be included into his shenanigans.

 

”Friends, family,” Yunho hollered, ”I think it’s time to get de rigueurs over with.” A wide smiled was painted on his whole face as he lifted his glass, and their friends stepped closer, circling him.

 

”I think that’s your cue,” Zhoumi snickered, patting Donghae’s shoulder.

 

The brunet put his glass down, straightening his blazer before walking off to Yunho. He wasn’t much of fan to the fact that he would have to stand there before everyone, but he did it anyway with a borrowed confidence.

 

Yunho patted his back, and stood proudly beside the younger. The leader had a silvery gray suit, with a black shirt and thin, satin tie. His eyes glew warm, and his essence was unusually easy-going. The high wall of being a gang leader had momentariously fallen down.

 

”The past year has been rough for everyone,” the man started softly, ”But it’s time for new beginnings. Donghae has became part of our large family way before this day, but I wanted to honor this tradition...”

 

He took a casing out of his breast pocket that revealed a small knife. Donghae was surprised, but the others were as if they’d seen this before. His heart started beating a little faster.

 

”This ritual might seem old-fashioned, but it has been passed through generations...” Yunho explained, as the tip of a knife made a fine cut through his palm. The edges had already reddened as the knife was given to Donghae with a father-like nod. He took the knife without hesitation, but it took him few seconds before he pressed the tip against his skin. The blade drew an almost identical incision to his hand. It stung, but it was nothing compared to being shot. Blood burst onto his palm, and he stared at it for a while. He gave the knife to Changmin who was standing beside them, when Yunho offered his hand towards him with a smile. Donghae clasped their hands together, feeling how the warm bloods mixed together. A blood oath.

 

The corner of Donghae’s mouth rose, and he could hear his friends cheering at him. Yunho gave him a manly hug, and Donghae patted his back before pulling away. Changmin was fast to offer them some bandages.

 

”But there’s another thing I’d like to give you,” Yunho continued, and the crowd grew quieter. ”You father left this for me to keep, if you’d ever be a part of this world… And now it’s yours.”

 

He pulled a ring out of his pocket. It was a silver ring with ornamental carvings, widening towards the square cut diamond at the center of it. It was a black diamond.

 

Donghae felt more nervous taking the ring than cutting himself. The ring was heavy to hold, and even heavier to bear, he thought. He rolled it onto his middle finger, marveling the beauty of it. The fact that the diamond was black brought a certain person into his mind. Oh, how much he missed the leader of the old Black Diamonds…

 

He hadn’t noticed how everyone were staring at him, until Yunho talked again.

 

”Welcome to Shiwang, at last.”

 

Heechul was first to jump at him, and everyone seemed to follow. Donghae could barely breathe, when so many embraced him. ”Thank you,” he muttered with a wary breath.

 

”Who’s ready to get wasted!” Heechul yelled all of a sudden, throwing his fist in to the air. His friends cheered and howled, and Donghae couldn’t do else but laugh.

 

 

It wasn’t too much past midnight, when Donghae watched the others from the bar. He still wasn’t much in a mood to party, but he was grateful that at least the others were having a blast. He had had a few to drink, but till this day, he wasn’t mush of a drinker after what happened the first time. Donghae bit the insides of his cheek as the warm memory filled his mind, and took him elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about him, and it only seemed to have gotten worse. There were times when he almost could feel himself moving forward, before he already took two steps backwards.

 

”Something on your mind?” Zhoumi suddenly asked, and Donghae rotated the shot glass on the table.

 

”It’s nothing,” he muttered, but Zhoumi offered him the raised eyebrow. There was a minute of silence, before the barista continued.

 

”It doesn’t feel quite the same without Hyukjae here.”

 

Donghae gulped, stopping the glass. ”No… It doesn’t.”

 

The other man realized it might be better to say no more, so instead, he opened a beer for the younger.

 

”Thanks.” Donghae took a sip of the cold beverage. ”I think I could use some fresh air.”

 

Zhoumi nodded, polishing a glass with a towel. Donghae stood from his chair, and took the beer with him as left to find his way to the backdoor.

 

 

***

 

 

The cold air knocked him out of his thoughts as the wind flew right through his shirt. It gave him a sense of clarity as he took a deep breath and leant against the door that led to the alleyway behind the building. The distant voices of Incheon’s bustling night rang in his ears, as cars drove further down on the main street and partying people laughed and talked loudly.

 

He took a sip of his cold beer. The thin layer of snow crunched under his shoes as he paced around mindlessly. His mind was as tangled as a ball of wool, and he massaged his temple in frustration. The city around him made him feel lonely, more than he usually was, and a sudden blaze of sadness took a grip over him. Hot tears burned in his eyes, as he tried to explain himself that there was nothing he could do. There was no way of moving backwards. He could either move forward and fall deeper into it, or rise higher and start living his life. But why was it as if he was swimming in a frozen sea, limbs too dead to keep him below the surface?

 

Donghae kicked a forgotten beverage can on the ground, growling in anger. He felt so stuck. Not knowing was eating him alive. If they’d just found Hyukjae’s body by the sea, he could finally let go. But there was no body. No answers.

 

He just wanted to close his eyes and not see Hyukjae’s face every time. Every time he fell asleep, every time he woke up.

 

Too occupied with his grief, Donghae wasn’t able to notice that a man was walking towards him. The man reached him with stealth of a panther hunting its prey.

 

And as a cold touch against his occipital, with a soft click of a gun’s safety being taken off, Donghae woke back to reality, freezing on his feet.

 

The time seemed to stop, and the young leader could hear his heart beating loudly up in his ears. Cold shivers run down his spine, as he waited. He could hear a the perpetrator’s breath. An ambulance drove somewhere, sirens blasting in the silence of the night, the music coming from Devil mixing with it.

 

Was this it? The end? Some gang banger had decided to take him out, on the night of his initiation party? Killing Xiezhi’s leader would make a difference. Hell would break loose.

 

Was Donghae ready for it?

 

”What are you waiting for?” his words suddenly echoed in the alley, unwavering.

 

The man behind him shifted on his feet. Donghae took his chance. He bolted around. Threwing his arm against the arm holding the gun. At the corner of his eye, he saw the man had a biker mask over his mouth. He saw a glint of brown eyes, a stripe of red under a baseball hat. He managed to clasp his hands onto the other man’s. The masked man was strong, and he tried to keep his grip. The gun pointed at the air, Donghae kicked the man’s shin and with a shift movement, managed to grab his arm around the man’s throat.

 

The gun fell to the ground as they struggled. An elbow punched him in the abdomen. A fist met with jaw. Another punch landed, and Donghae groaned in pain. He could taste the iron in his mouth. Breathing was hard. His heartbeat hammered so loud on his ears. He jumped back at the masked man. He wasn’t able to notice anything else. His head was ringing, his face hurt.

 

The man was slightly taller. All in black. He pulled on his jacket. A loud growl barked back at him, like a mad dog. He was able to dodge few punches, rip the man’s mask away. He kicked him again, but the man answered with a fist. Donghae faltered, and the man took the opportunity, throwing him against the building. He fell to the snowy ground, and the cold matter met with his fingers. It was so cold, it felt like his skin was on fire. He tried to recoil, stand up. His muscles hurt, breathing was hard. He didn’t have the stamina to keep on much longer.

 

Hands clasped on the collar of his blazer, pulling him up.

 

Almond eyes. Narrow face. The familiarity hit him, yet all about him was the opposite he knew once.

 

It couldn’t be, but there he was. The Ghost he’d been searching for.

 

His heart hammered against his chest when he was thrown against the wall behind. Eyes and all his senses alert, he stared at the man he once knew so well, but who now was something different. He didn’t know this man. He had never seen anything so empty or dull in the dark orbs he once loved to look into. These eyes he pierced through with his own were almost like a mirror of his own; lost and lonely, tough and raw. Where had all the life escaped to?

 

Those hands grasped tight onto the front of his jacket, black eyes now fierce and full of doubt.

 

Donghae glared back, teeth gritting against each other and lips in a thin, straight line. He wanted to push the red haired man off of him, but the muscle that kept his blood circulating through his veins didn’t actually want to. It had been over a year since the last time he was able to feel those hands clasping against him. He had thought he would never be able to feel those on him again, he couldn’t make himself remove the man off him.

 

He kept glaring, half-believing and partly trying to make some sense if it could actually only be a dream. But it felt too real, and he knew he wasn’t sleeping. But how could it be possible...? Could he be wrong about those single-lidded, almond colored and shaped eyes that couldn’t belong to anyone else? He was so shocked he wasn’t able to think straight. He could only hear his heavy breathing mixing with the other man’s. Feel the light blow against his skin, mind swirling, dazed. He felt hot and cold, mad and relieved, hopeful and desperate.

 

When he saw the despising stare in the red head’s eyes, he could almost mirror that feeling. But at the same time he couldn’t find himself actually hating this man.

 

The mere presence of him was intoxicating enough to make him lose his mind.

 

“Hyukjae,” he rasped through his dried lips, voice merely louder than a whisper. He wasn’t sure if the puzzled flash in the other’s eyes meant anything. And in the end he found himself feeling disappointed when there was no any sign of recognition.

 

“Who are you?” the man, which Donghae had called Hyukjae, growled deep from his throat, squinting his already narrow eyes, nails digging deeper into the leather of the younger’s jacket.

 

“A ghost from the past.”

 

The taller male looked confused, but in a mere second his eyes fired up. More hotter and blistering than Donghae had ever seen them be. The male took a step even closer, crunching his nose in pure disgust.

 

“You were the one who tried to kill me.”

 

 

Ghost knew exactly this was the man who had tried to kill him. But who was this guy? What had been such a reason, to make him want to kill him? He knew nothing about this brunet, who he knew to be Xiezhi’s new leader. But this guy was young, on his early twenties. Who was he behind his own mask?

 

Anger smoldered inside him. What about him had been really worth killing for? He almost wished the young man had succeeded, so he wouldn’t need to live in this hell.

 

”Huh?” Donghae seemed surpised. He seemed so…innocent, that Ghost tasted blood inside his mouth before his fist sunk into the man’s stomach. The brunet howled, gasping for air.

 

”I didn’t–,” the man tried, and Ghost gritted his teeth. ”Kill you?” he laughed. Laughed.

 

Ghost pulled himself few inches further.

 

”It wasn’t me,” Donghae laughed, but tears had risen to his eyes. His eyes glimmered in tears. ”You saved me.” The man...cried. ”You saved my life.”

 

Ghost’s fist fell lower. ”What the fuck are you talking about?” Nothing made sense anymore. A flash of a car chase run behind his eyes. Then it was dark. Just dark, cold. Lonely.

 

”Why would I save you?” he growled low from this throat. He couldn’t believe what the man was saying. He would try to save his own ass, wouldn’t he? ”Why was I left for dead? Why? I got killed. For what? Why would I ever give my life for yours?”

 

 

AN: Comments are life! 


	8. Fragments

8\. Fragments

 

”For what? Why!”

 

Donghae’s back met against the wall, harder. He stared back at the man whose eyes were on fire with frustration.

 

”Because–,” he tried to open his mouth, but he was suddenly at loss with words. This man in front him wasn’t who he used to be. The guy he’d fallen in love with, this wasn’t him. This was Ghost. The crash must’ve caused a memory loss. Amnesia. Or something like that, because there wasn’t a gleam of recognition in the man’s eyes. He had no idea who Donghae was to him. Or had been. But someone who had tried to kill him? Why would he think so? The brunet tried to piece everything together, but he couldn’t figure out anyone else but this gang Ghost belonged to, Gamangnara, that could have fed him such lies. But why?

 

”Come on, you can’t even look me in the eye and tell me why you’d want me dead?” Ghost snarled, and Donghae felt his cold hand around his throat, slowly getting tighter and tighter.

 

”You dont… You don’t remember?” Donghae hissed, swallowing as breathing got a tad harder.

 

”Wouldn’t you be dead already if I did?”

 

”Good point,” Donghae rumbled, his own hands tied around Ghost’s, pushing against them.

 

”The only thing I know is that you are the reason why I don’t remember.”

 

Donghae tried to find a way to make Ghost understand, but if there wasn’t a single thing he remembered, why would he have a reason to believe anything he said?

 

”And who the hell is Hyukjae? Why would you call me that?” Ghost seemed lost.

 

”Hyukjae?” Donghae replied, and a tiny hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth. ”That’s your name. Lee Hyukjae.”

 

And for the first time, something flickered in the red head’s eyes. His grip around Donghae’s neck loosened just a little to help the younger breathe again.

 

The name brought a sensation, but Ghost wasn’t sure what it was. The sensation, or rather, emotion. He hadn’t felt that before–at least, in this life.

 

”That’s a stupid name,” Ghost grunted, defensive.

 

”Is Ghost any better?” Donghae sighed; it would take a lot of effort to make the other believe, or even trust his word. ”And it is your name.”

 

”Why wouldn’t we get back to the fact of you trying to get me killed?”

 

”There’s not much to talk about it,” Donghae noted, ”Because as I said, I didn’t try to kill you. You were trying to save me.”

 

”For whom?”

 

”Hero. Xiezhi’s old leader. Xiezhi belonged to my family before Hero’s father murdered my parents. He tried to stop me from taking it back. And I challenged him to race against me, and he tried to take me out. But you took him out instead.”

 

There was clear suspicion in Ghost’s tense body and eyes. This young leader… Why would he try to save him? His eyes were dark, filled with questions without answers. But something about this Donghae made him want to believe him, and his senses tried to fight against it. It could be a trick. He could be dead if he let his guard down.

 

”Again, why would I risk my life for yours?” Ghost demanded.

 

”You...” Donghae started, but he realized he could not just tell Ghost that they had been lovers. There was no way he would believe that, and the man would probably just kill him for such a ”lie”. He needed to leave things out and make things more easier to understand. It would hurt, but if there was even a slight chance he could get the old Hyukjae back, someday, someway, he would do and say what he needed to say. ”We were...partners. Comrades. You had my back. We were...friends.”

 

 

”Friends?” Ghost laughed dryly. ”That’s quite the opposite of what I’ve been told! I was the one who was betrayed!” he growled angrily.

 

Donghae was getting tired and frustrated. He was cold and Ghost’s grip on him was so tight that he’d started to get numb. It was going to be a long fight try to make the other understand him.

 

”Those were lies! Whoever told you those things, has been lying straight to your face!” he snarled back. ”After the crash, we searched you for months! And we didn’t find anything. We thought you were dead. I thought you were dead!”

 

Ghost was a little taken aback by Donghae’s sudden outburst. He gritted his teeth, searching for something in the younger’s eyes that could tell him he was the one lying. But there wasn’t anything like that. He could only see sadness… Shame, even regret?

 

”Why would they lie to me?”

 

”How could I know! I barely heard about Gamangnara a week ago. I don’t know about their agenda, but I bet it’s something against Xiezhi, or me, or Shiwang.” Donghae’s finger dug into his fists, but he couldn’t feel anything. All he felt was inside, mental. ”And you are most likely just their pawn to get to us! You’re being played with.”

 

For a moment, Ghost seemed to consider the fact. But he was stubborn.

 

”You already tried to take me out; cause whatever ruckus amongst us,” Donghae grunted.

 

”So you saw me,” Ghost noted, but his head was so tangled for all the different reasons mixing with both sides. Who was he to trust now? How could he know who actually told the truth?

 

”Yes. Without that, I wouldn’t have tried to find you.”

 

”Find me?”

 

Donghae bit his lips, eyes gazing downwards away from Ghost’s gaze.

 

”I always had a feeling you might still be alive. So when I saw you, I couldn’t almost believe it. I just had to know if you were alive. I had to find you,” the brunet sighed, a little longing evident in his tone.

 

For the first time since Ghost grabbed the leader, he stopped to look at the younger man. His eyes wandered, as unnoticeably as he could. Sad eyes, thin lips. Suddenly the blurry face from his nightmares fit into a picture. It was Donghae he’d tried to remember. Looking at him made him feel dizzy. His head spun. Flashes of Donghae fled behind his eyes. Smiling, crying, smirking, laughing. He felt a bang inside his chest. But for good or bad, he wans’t sure. The feelings were so misplaced, blurry.

 

It was a long time, that went by just staring at each other.

 

”How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

 

Donghae closed his eyes. Finding him, finally… It wasn’t what he thought it would be.

 

”You...don’t,” Donghae sighed, ”But killing me isn’t going to give you answers. The truth.”

 

Ghost struggled. Part of him wanted to believe.

 

”Do you want to find out the truth?” Donghae continued, daring.

 

The red head stared.

 

”You’re a racer, aren’t you?” The younger man was out of options. But he could bet that getting into the truth would matter more than being right. He’d seen a glimpse of question in the older’s eyes. He wasn’t sure who to believe any more.

 

An eyebrow rose.

 

”Then I want you to race against me. If I win, you let me tell you the truth, and you’ll listen. If you win, you can… You can do whatever you want to do with me.” It had been a year since he’d raced. The last time was when he lost Hyukjae. Would he lose him for good, if he’d lose?

 

At last, Ghost’s arm dropped and Donghae’s throat was freed. He took a deep breath. He moved his fingers to get the feeling back to his body. Ghost was still hostile, and not any less suspicious.

 

”Fine,” the man grunted.

 

The baseball hat had hid his face with shadows, but when he turned to eye around, Donghae clearly saw a big scar on his cheek. It must’ve come from the crash. He couldn’t even imagine what the man had gone through. What had happened, and how had he survived? The one on his cheek couldn’t be the only scar he had. How much had he suffered during the past year?

 

”We meet tomorrow, at The Loop, at midnight,” Ghost commanded, giving a hard look for the other. ”You come alone. Or I’m going to hunt you down.”

 

Donghae gazed back at him, biting his lip. ”I’ll be there.”

 

Ghost gritted his teeth. ”Stay put. Don’t move until I’m gone or I’m going to shoot you right there.” He returned to pick up his fallen gun, tucking it behind his back. He never lost sight to Donghae, until he disappeared into the darkness.

 

When the man was gone, Donghae dropped down to the ground. With a loud thud, his back met with the wall again, and tears poured down his cheeks with a desperate sob. He clenched his fist around a ball of snow, letting out a shaky, long-held gasp of air.

 

Hyukjae was alive. Not quite there, but he really was alive.

 

Donghae had never felt so relieved in his life.

 

 

 

It was ten minutes later, when Donghae finally managed to get himself back inside. He avoided pumping into anyone, as he marched to the toilet at the back of Devil. As he stared back at himself from the bathroom mirror, the bruises and a cut on his lip were evident on his face. A line of blood had smudged on his temple and at the corner of his mouth.

 

He would need an explanation for the others, because questions would be flooding straight at him when the other’s would see him. Telling them about Hyukjae–Ghost, wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t ready for that yet, and it would only cause too much crazy for the night.

 

Hands shaking, mind full he tried to wipe away the worst from his face. Donghae opened the faucet, bent down and washed his face. Everything hurt but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to him at this point was the fact that he hadn’t gone mad. Seeing Hyukjae hadn’t been his imagination.

 

But his head was a mess. All the grief, anger, rage, guilt, frustration… It had rushed back now that he was alone. The longing, the heartbreak… All the shit he’d been through. Had it all been for nothing?

 

How could he make Ghost remember who he really was?

 

Five minutes later, as he’d finally calmed down a little, he headed straight to the bar and poured himself a shot. He gulped it down all at once.

 

”Donghae, where have you been? You’re missing the point of this party–,” Heechul hollered behind his back, but shut up the second he saw Donghae’s rugged face. ”What the hell happened to you?!”

 

Donghae clenched his jaw. He’d come up with another lie, but he didn’t have a choice. A dry laugh escaped his lips. ”Uh, I was… I was mugged. Can you believe it? A kid attacked me behind the bar. Took my wallet.”

 

Heechul’s eyes went wide, and he gaped like a brain-dead goldfish.

 

”Are you serious? I’m gonna kill that son of a–”

 

”He took me by surprise. Got away.”

 

Heechul stared at him. Long and hard, and at this point, a hint of suspicion glimmered in his cat-eyes. But after a moment, his eyes softened, and it seemed he’d swallowed the white lie.

 

”Did you at least get a punch at him?”

 

”Sure,” Donghae laughed.

 

Heechul gave him a hug, before he started pouring them both new shots of alcohol. Donghae didn’t budge this time. He needed the distraction.

 

 

***

 

 

Ghost couldn’t tell how long he’d wandered around the city, walking through the sleet and getting his shoes drenched. Bruised hands tucked into his jacket, he marched forward without a proper destination, the cold gun under his shirt keeping him awake.

 

When he’d been face to face with the leader of Xiezhi, he’d been living in the moment, and all the puzzling thoughts had left him alone. But now he was alone; alone with his thoughts and the swirl of emotions, most of which he’d never felt before.

 

Seeing the young, rather handsome man, had surprisingly ignited a lot inside him, but most of it he couldn’t reach to understand properly.

 

One minute the face had meant nothing for him, and another, he remembered he’d known that face once. But what did it really mean? Some of those looks in Donghae’s eyes… There had been something else, something deeper.

 

The fact that he couldn’t remember angered him to no end. Pieces and pieces of himself were just locked away somewhere. If he couldn’t reach them now, would he ever remember everything? Everything he was, everything he’d been through?

 

Without really taken a note of it, he’d ended up walking through a park. The park was deserted at the time of the night, and only silence was there to accompany him. He stopped over a small bridge that rode over a river, and he found himself looking back at himself from the black water. It hadn’t gotten so cold that it would’ve iced. Ghost grapped the railing, holding his breath.

 

If he would just remember!

 

He stared the water, as if waiting for an answer.

 

You had my back. We were...friends.

 

Donghae’s voice echoed inside his head. Friends? It had sounded somewhat genuine. But could he trust that?

 

Suddenly words that he thought he’d never heard before, came back to him. They turned inside his head like a broken record.

 

”Can I… Can I call you Hyukjae?”

 

”Why?”

 

”It’s your real name right? It suits you better.”

 

”Ugh, whatever you want.”

 

Hyukjae… It really was his real name?

 

If those distant words inside his head really were a part of a memory, it made it sound like they had actually been somewhat close. Friends. Something. There were no faces in his memory, he only remembered the shared words. With Donghae.

 

His mind was spinning. More words came from somewhere, and cold shivers ran down his spine.

 

”You’ve changed.”

 

”So have you.”

 

”Is that a bad thing?”

 

”No, not at all.”

 

Ghost was suddenly gasping for breath, and his heartbeat felt so loud that it made him feel dizzy. Sweat pushed on top of his skin. It felt as if someone had a hand grasping around his heart, and his chest hurt. The feeling was so overwhelming it brought him onto his knees.

 

”Don’t you remember?”

 

”Remember...what?”

 

The words were mixing inside his head; everything that came back went straight into a blender, and he couldn’t make out anything else but the fact that all those words he’d shared with Donghae, no one else. But in what context, why, when?

 

All the feelings that belonged to those moments, he couldn’t catch. It was all just a blur, a big mess of emotions he didn’t know how to feel anymore.

 

 

AN: 


	9. Catch Me

9\. Catch Me

 

”Is it done?”

 

A woman’s voice rose behind the armchair with a cloud of gray smoke. The fire in the fireplace rattled, sparking inside. The man behind him gritted his teeth, imprinting his palm with his fingernails.

 

”No.”

 

Gain took a deep inhale of his long, thin cigarette.

 

”Why?”

 

She sounded disappointed, a little angry.

 

”I’m not sure. They fought, and he could’ve killed him but he didn’t. They argued.”

 

”What was it about?”

 

”I couldn’t hear everything without being seen.”

 

”Mm.”

 

”But they’ll meet again. Tomorrow, at The Loop. Should I finish him?”

 

There was a long, pregnant silence. The fire cracked.

 

”Not yet,” she said, stubbing out her cigarette. ”Keep trailing, see what you can find out.”

 

”Yes.”

 

***

 

The Loop was always bustling at that time of the night, and it was one of the only places Ghost felt comfortable being at. Amongst the crowd, the music, the cars – Ghost fit in. It wasn’t a feeling of belonging, but he did feel like somebody.

 

But after meeting with the Xiezhi leader, his stomach had been churning and turning; the voices didn’t leave him alone; and he kept seeing the young man’s face every time closed his eyes. He knew, he needed answers.

 

For the fist time since he could remember, he really felt nervous. It wasn’t because of the race, but it it was everything and nothing all at the same time. Other emotions… Were just a mess. He had tried to understand them, but there was too much. Everything was just too much. What would he even do if he won? Donghae was supposed to be dead; killed by him. He had failed, and he wasn’t sure if he had a choice. What would he have to face if he wouldn’t deliver?

 

Ghost sat inside his car, counting his breathing. A car he’d managed to by after working for six months; a black Dodge Challenger. He leant against his knuckles, elbow placed against the edge of the window and the door. Fingers clasping harder against the steering wheel, he felt a tug down on his chest. There was something he’d tried to remember; something important, his head kept nagging. But he just couldn’t catch it.

 

Soon, a car drove in to his sight, and a scoff escaped his lips. It was a bright, almost electric blue Audi. His eyes followed the car’s movement, before it stopped some distance away. As a young, familiar looking male stood out of the car, Ghost rolled his eyes. Of course it was Donghae’s car.

 

A smile flashed at the back of his mind again. Ghost stormed out of his car, trying to push the picture out of his head.

 

If Donghae felt anxious, he didn’t show it to the outside. Everything about his attire shouted calm, at least in Ghost’s eyes as he approached the other. His dark hair was tousled over; a leather jacket covered a black hoodie and a burgundy t-shirt under it; his jeans were rather tight, dark denim. If Ghost hadn’t known he was Xiezhi’s leader, he probably would have never guessed about the criminal ties.

 

But as the distance grew shorter, he couldn’t take his eyes off the car. Something about it was… It was as if he’d seen it before. But it wasn’t a car you saw every day.

 

Donghae only noticed him when he was right next to him. Their gazes locked, and for a second Ghost didn’t know what to say as he leant his back against the R8’s bonnet.

 

A cigarette was lit, and Donghae watched as puff of air danced through the red head’s lips. When Ghost was still Hyukjae, it had been a nervous habit; something Hyukjae did when he’d felt trapped, anxious. He had to wonder if it was the same for Ghost.

 

”When are we going to do this?” Donghae asked, his tone as smooth as a millpond.

 

Ghost gave him a swift side-eye. ”I got us in for 0030.”

 

”Thirty minutes till then.”

 

”Yeah.”

 

Ghost didn’t know what to say at this point. But now, as he watched Donghae as subtly as he could, there was suddenly such a strange feeling inside him. He remembered the moment back at the alleyway, his hand around the younger’s throat. Donghae’s hands had been on top his, trying to push him away. He hadn’t noticed the sensation back then; but now it caused shivers on top of his skin, remembering it. How would it feel, if the situation wouldn’t had been hostile?

 

Biting his lips, hard, he shut his head down. He should be making himself ready to end this, once and for all, not thinking what had been. Or could’ve been.

 

***

 

A regular, rather unnoticeable silver Nissan parked further away from the Audi it had followed.

 

This place again, Heechul thought, killing the engine. Yesterday night he had already had some suspicion about Donghae getting mugged. He knew Donghae was more than capable of taking out a ’teenager’; Heechul had trained the young leader himself and he knew exactly an overage teenager wouldn’t be a match for him. So why had he lied? That was the reason he had followed the man from their Incheon headquarters. Something was going on, and he had to know what it was.

 

But as he stood out of his car, a black cap and a big black hoodie covering most of him, he couldn’t believe his eyes as he saw Donghae beside his Audi with a…

 

Was that… No way. It was impossible. But it was Hyukjae. Hyukjae. Even the red hair, a gray hoodie, black jeans and an army green baseball hat couldn’t fool him. He had known Hyukjae for years, and Heechul would’ve rather hit himself than admitted that he could be wrong. It was Hyukjae, alive and breathing.

 

But how? He was supposed to be dead… And if he wasn’t–which he clearly was not, why hadn’t Donghae told everyone? What were they doing here?

 

As he watched them longer, mind puzzled, he soon noticed that something wasn’t quite right. The way they were, it was as if they didn’t really know each other. They seemed like strangers to each other; acquaintances at best.

 

Why were they there, and what were they waiting for?

 

***

 

Donghae watched as a set of four cars drove by the curve, the leading cars rotating perfectly over it. He started to feel self-conscious. Hyukjae had taught him well, but he might never reach the same level as the other. He found it hard to believe that Ghost could have forgotten such a skill, since he seemed to still be very much into it. Could he win this race? And was Ghost actually going to honor his words? Would he be racing agains the clock of his life tonight?

 

The minutes passed slowly, and they hadn’t shared another word since Ghost sat on his car’s bonnet. As little he was able to read the man, he could see that much that the man was indeed a bit nervous. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes wandered.

 

”It’s time.”

 

The words sounded like a church bell tolling inside his head as he jerked out of his thoughts. It also brought him back to an unpleasant memory, a time just before the last race before…

 

”Let’s go,” the red head hurried him, hopping of the bonnet. Donghae could only stare the man’s diverting back with anxiety building inside. Ghost disappeared into a black muscle car, wich howled as it was started.

 

He rushed inside his own car. When he sat down on it after minutes of hesitation, he put the key into the ignition, and a loud purr filled his ears.

 

”It’s been a long time, baby,” he mouthed with trembling lips, feeling the leathered steering wheel under his fingers.

 

He had no idea if it was a good idea. The whole thing, to begin with. It had been a year, and he had no guarantees he would even have a chance of winning. But he saw no other options. His sepang blue Audi R8 was just a stupid way for him to try bolt Ghost’s memories. And he had no idea if it had had any effect on the man yet.

 

The Challenger disappeared behind the other cars, and Donghae swiftly followed after it. As they approached the speedway, a woman beckoned them towards the road with hand signals. A neon green Subaru Impreza was put between his and Ghost’s cars. The array was colorful, as a black Challenger, the Subaru, Donghae’s electric blue R8 and a fourth car, a crimson Mustang started to revv their engines.

 

He had no other rivals but Ghost. The two others didn’t matter, but Donghae already felt like he could throw up from fear that bubbled angrily in his stomach.

 

The woman walked between the green monster and the Audi, widening her arms to her sides. Donghae could hear the Challenger growling even deeper, and he knew the man was serious. At least of winning – about killing Donghae, he wasn’t so sure.

 

”Ready,” the woman seemed to mouth outside, inaudibly for the drivers to hear. She threw her arm forward. ”Set.” Arms flew to her sides again. ”GO!” The arms rose to reach the sky, and the cars took off; wheels screeching, engines howling.

 

The Dodge took the lead in an instant. The crimson monster followed close behind. Donghae gritted his teeth as he pushed the gas harder.

 

The first curve wasn’t a challenge, but the green Subaru had already been left behind. Ghost’s Dodge was still ahead of the others, and all its moves were beautifully smooth. Donghae knew he could do better, and at the second, now much more difficult curve to drift, he was a lot closer of getting ahead of the Mustang.

 

I can do this, he repeated in his head over and over as he watched Ghost go. He gave more gas, a drop of sweat falling down his temple as his Audi managed to get past the Mustag. He hadn’t driven his birthday gift a lot, but at this point, he started to get back the feeling he’d had a year ago. Donghae had always liked driving it, and slowly but surely, the perfect touch was coming back to him.

 

The distance of the race wasn’t long, but it was filled with tricky curves and a few hills which the Dodge almost flew by. And as he managed to pass few of them, Donghae was suddenly filled with rush of that euphoria and adrenaline the racing used to cause. He had always loved it, and doing it beside Ghost… A part of the puzzle he’d lost was found again.

 

Giving more gas to the engine and shifting the gear, Donghae realized his car was just few meters behind Ghost’s. The red lights of the car gave him some courage. The engine kept purring as he closed in on it. Only two more curves, and they’d be at the finish line.

 

As the blue sports car reached the same level with the black one, Donghae couldn’t keep himself from taking a look of the red headed driver. Through the windows, he could see the determined look on the man’s face. A smirk rose to Donghae’s face as they locked eyecontact.

 

They hadn’t had a lot of fun memories from the time they were able to be together, as their time had been cut short as soon as it had begun. But this had always been their thing; to clear heads and enjoy the moment, simply having fun. As Donghae had gotten better, they had raced a few times. Back then, Donghae had never won.

 

The curves went by, and the finish line loomed ahead. Time seemed to stop again, and the only thing Donghae understood was his heartbeat. It was quick, but steady.

 

The woman at the sidelines threw her arms up again.

 

He gave more gas, but so did Ghost. The cars drove over the line, side by side, not an inch apart from each other.

 

Had they just…

 

Donghae let the car slow down freely as he steered away from the speedway after Ghost.

 

It was a draw.

 

 

***

 

 

The Dodge only stopped a bit further away from the crowd, on a slot where just few cars were in a hearing distance. The Audi stopped right after him.

 

Ghost stared through the windshield, catching his breath as the car kept humming. The young leader had surprised him. He knew a lot of Donghae’s people were racers, but he hadn’t known Donghae could be one too. A great one, at that.

 

His eyes rose to look through the rearview mirror. He could see the blue car behind him, its lights dimming. Cold shivers ran down his arms as he remembered how the Audi had followed him. Something about the car was trying to make him remember something. That car–the exact one, he knew it. He could see how it fit Donghae to a match. It was as if he’d been inside it, once.

 

Ghost licked his dry lips, keeping his gaze at the mirror. Donghae hadn’t moved out of the car yet. Had it really been a draw between them? What the hell was he supposed to do now? As he kept watching the blue bonnet behind him, and the dark looking figure inside, he felt as if he was being suffocated. Pressure took place over his chest, and the voices and shared words came back to haunt him. He leant his head against his palms, inhaling deep.

 

The first image, a memory, filled his head.

 

”Relax, Donghae. Just feel the car.”

 

He saw Donghae, sitting on the driver’s seat inside an expensive car. He was sitting beside him, instructing him. Donghae’s hair was different; longer, lighter. He had been younger. He hadn’t seen it all yet. They were in the middle of nowhere. The sky was dark. The city lights hovered at the horizon, in orange hues. Ghost felt the anticipation, the anxiety; not all his, but the younger’s too. The sky was blue, a little darker than Donghae’s Audi. Sapphire blue. The car Donghae drove, it was… It had belonged to Ghost. It was a black beast, a beaty of a car. He watched Donghae, and he felt… He felt… It was as if… He was content. But there was something heavier, and at the same time, something that…

 

Ghost tried, but he couldn’t reach it. The emotion slipped through his fingers, when Donghae knocked on his window. For a moment, Ghost stared. It took him a minute to realize it was an actual memory.

 

He wanted to know.

 

Donghae took a step back as the red head opened the door and stepped out. The air had grown colder, and Ghost swiftly pulled his hood over his head.

 

Donghae saw something different in his eyes.

 

”Tell me the truth.”

 

Ghost’s words startled the younger man, who stood just a dozen of inches away from the other.

 

”Huh?”

 

”I have to know who Hyukjae is.” Ghost’s eyes were dark and demanding, but a layer of them was softer. Donghae frowned, taken aback by the change. It made him wonder what actually had.

 

He struggled searching for what to say. ”It was a draw.”

 

”I know,” Ghost replied, a bit impatient. ”And I don’t care.”

 

Donghae kept staring. The other man tucked his fingers into his jeans’ pockets, gazing back the man from under his red fringe. A part of him looked very Hyukjae-ish to Donghae. As if something had been unlocked. Ghost watched him differently.

 

”I–I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk here. Too much people, too many ears,” Donghae murmured, still struck by it all.

 

Ghost bit his lips, tilting his head.

 

”Tomorrow, Jayu Park at the statue, at noon?”

 

Donghae nodded. He realized the hostility he had seen yesterday wasn’t there any more. There was a silence, and Donghae almost turned to leave, but Ghost’s words caught him off guard and he stopped.

 

”I taugh you how to drift, didn’t I?”

 

Donghae’s mouth snapped open.

 

”You...”

 

”Seems I taught you well,” Ghost noted, but before Donghae had a chance to say anything back, the man was already inside his car, the engine growling lowly as he drove off to the darkness.

 

 

AN: Comments are life! ;P


	10. Overpowered

10\. Overpowered

 

”Is that bourbon?”

 

A soft voice reached the man’s ears, but it didn’t register. The glass stood between his fingers, the amber colored liquid taking his attention away.

 

”Hello, earth to Heechul?” Sungmin asked again, leaning against the door that led to the dark colored kitchen.

 

Dark eyes rose to meet his.

 

”Yes.”

 

”You don’t even like bourbon.”

 

”No, I don’t,” Heechul replied, shaking the whiskey glass, and the alcohol almost waved over it.

 

”Then why are you drinking it? It’s seven am.”

 

”I’m thinking.”

 

Sungmin’s eyebrows fell, and he pouted. ”Care to share?”

 

A questioning look stared back at him, and Heechul’s shoulders jerked upwards. What he had seen at the night had risen more questions than answers, and he didn’t know what to do with it. If Donghae hadn’t told them himself, was he one to blabb about it?

 

”Not really,” Heechul finally said with a sigh. Maybe there was a good reason Donghae wasn’t in the mood for sharing. He hadn’t seen the man himself after leaving The Loop, but the Audi was parked in front of their headquarters, so he must have returned alive.

 

”Sure about that?”

 

”Very,” the older man huffed, and Sungmin left, rather defeated. If Heechul wasn’t talking, he certainly didn’t do it under pressure.

 

The matter wouldn’t leave his head. Hyukjae was alive. How long had Donghae known? Why hadn’t he told everyone? And what the hell was the race about? He had been relatively surprised to see the young man behind a wheel, not the least behind the Audi’s wheel, which he hadn’t driven, not even touched, since past year. What the fuck was going on and why were they left in the dark?

 

Another thing that bugged him, was Hyukjae. How was he alive? Why was everything so strange?

 

”God damn it,” Heechul cursed, pouring down the whiskey and instantly toppling another.

 

***

 

This time, Donghae had decided to take his Ducati instead. The morning he’d woken up and remembered he would see Ghost again, anxiety had settled back in. For two hours, he’d laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The fact that Ghost had started to remember, even a little piece, had brought his hopes up. Would the man eventually remember who Donghae was to him?

 

The whole morning, he’d instinctively avoided everyone at the headquarters. He didn’t want to talk, and he wasn’t sure how he would have reacted if people had started asking questions. His friends must have noticed that something about him was off; he had been disappearing, brought back his Audi, lied… He was surprised no one had confronted him yet.

 

Once again, he’d left the house without a word. He’d seen Heechul’s suspicious looks as he’d taken his helmet and rushed out the door.

 

When he gave the mansion a one last look before taking off, he apologized everyone in his head.

 

Telling everyone that Hyukjae was alive… It could be a loose cannon. How would people even react to something like that? He couldn’t quite grasp on it himself yet. Ghost was different. He was trying to fraternize with a man he didn’t know much about. And Ghost belonged to a gang that obviously had something against Shiwang and Xiezhi both. If Ghost had been brain-washed to think that Donghae had tried to kill him, what other lies had they fed him? Gamangnara might be using Ghost against him.

 

He might walk right into a trap and he didn’t even care. If there was one chance in a million to get Hyukjae back, he would take it. But at what cost?

 

The ride to Incheon went by way too fast. Was he even ready to talk everything through with the red head? What about their relationship? At some point, Donghae still thought it might not be a good idea to lay out everything for Ghost. It might be too much to take at once.

 

As the Ducati drove up the hill towards the park’s parking lot, he could feel his heartbeat up in his ears again. The sun was shyly trying to peek through the November clouds, and for once, it was a tad warmer. It had been a cold autumn. The trees had lost their leaves, and for a Monday afternoon, the park seemed pleasantly quiet.

 

He just hoped the calm wasn’t foreshadowing an upcoming storm.

 

Donghae parked his motorbike and killed the engine. When he took off his helmet, his eyes immediately gazed around, searching. With a deep breath he placed the helmet on the bike’s handle. He didn’t give much tought for the van that parked next to his bike.

 

Where would he even start telling Ghost the whole story? Would the man really listen to him? To even believe him, for what it was worth?

 

Biting his lips, he tried to get his nerves on check, but every possible scenario of the upcoming talk invaded his mind so bad that he didn’t quite catch what was happening around him.

 

He didn’t notice how the van’s side door was opened, nor did he realize a man was sneaking up to him.

 

And in the blink of an eye, his mouth was covered with a cloth and he was grabbed from behind. For a second he managed to struggle, but his head was getting blurry, fast, and it didn’t take long before everything faded out completely.

 

***

 

Ghost watched as dead leaves danced above the ground, circling and swinging to and fro as the wind seemed to grow stronger. The remote sun had disappeared behind the darkening clouds, and the gloomy weather started to get on his nerves. It was ten minutes past one in the afternoon, and he didn’t know why he was still there, sitting on an abandoned park bench, waiting.

 

The light hoodie he had on him wasn’t warm enough anymore. What had he even expected? He had waited over and hour and half, and there was still no sign of the Xiezhi leader. What the hell was he still doing there? The man had probably been lying straight to his face; maybe trying to evade for getting killed if Ghost would have caught him on the lies.

 

Maybe Gain had been right all along, and Donghae had just been playing with him. Maybe he was figuring out how to take him out for good.

 

Yet something about the man had seemed sincere. Or was he that bad at reading people?

 

Ghost wasn’t sure about anything anymore. The anger had started to creep back at him. He had been waiting for nothing. But why couldn’t he leave? Was he seriously still hoping for the brunet to act up to his words?

 

Even if Gain had been telling the truth, Donghae was the only person who could shed at least some light about his past. He was sick and tired of being lied to, for not knowing. It was so hard to move on when there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to help him understand who he really was. He would rather know all about the lies, the betrayal, than be kept in the dark.

 

He didn’t want to realize the fact that he had been an idiot for expecting too much. But he had walked around the statue for a dozen times, he’d actually searched for the other man, and he’d been sitting on numerous different benches already. He didn’t want to give up, even if his hands were cold and numb, his head filled with frustration, anger, confusion.

 

What a fool he was.

 

When the clock turned five minutes past two, he was sick of it. The man was a no-show, he knew it, and yet he’d waited. His head felt like it was going to explode, and he wanted to punch someone.

 

Yet he decided to take the longer route as he was supposed to get back to his car. He wandered around, silently hoping that it could’ve been a misunderstanding, or the other was late, or anything. Anything but being stood up for no good reason.

 

Gritting his teet, he started to pull out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, when something caught his eye at the parking lot. He hadn’t parked his own car there, it was the opposite direction where he’d come from, but the expensive motorbike laying on the ground perked his interest. The bike lied there on it’s side, and a helmet had rolled a bit further away from it.

 

He would never leave a bike like that dead on the asphalt. Ghost walked closer, the cigarette long forgotten. And as he stared at the Ducati, it started to gnaw him. Had he seen that bike somewhere? It was a custom bike.

 

Then it clicked. He’d seen the bike behind the new bar, when he’d first confronted Donghae. The alleyway behind Devil. The same night. The same bike.

 

Coincidence? He didn’t think so. So what the hell had happened here?

 

Ghost took the helmet on his hand, examining the darkened visor. It had a crack. He immediately grapped the bike’s handles, pulling it up. Its side had scratches. Probably from a fall down. But by accident, or something else? He highly doubted Donghae would be so careless with a bike like that. A strange feeling started to loom at the back of his head.

 

He started to understand that there really was a reason why Donghae hadn’t showed up.

 

***

 

Cold.

 

The only thing he was able to feel was the coldness. His fingers were numb, and shivers ran through his skin. His whole body was tired; it was a struggle to even get his eyes to open. Shimmering light came through his eyelids, and he couldn’t see until he blinked numerous times to get used to it. When his body started to follow and wake up, the pain started to settle. Bits and pieces came back, but it was still all very hazy, nothing made sense.

 

Slowly getting used to the feelings around his body, the pain around his stomach and his face, he smelled iron. It took him a second to understand that something was dripping down his jaw, and he begun to taste the blood on his tongue.

 

The bright light staring right at him made it hard to figure out anything else. But as the minutes slowly passed by, the dark figures came to life. The air smelled like oil, or paint, dank and musty. The rain drummed against something metallic, but beside that, he couldn’t catch anything else. There were no windows. It was a room… No, maybe more like a hall? A warehouse? Few pillars stood at the center on a row. Some metal scraps at the other end, maybe, he couldn’t really see well. His other eye stayed shut, as if something was blocking it from opening.

 

Some sensation revived to his fingers, but they still felt like he’d been out cold for quite a while. The bomber jacket and a t-shirt wasn’t enough. As the sensation returned, he slowly realized he couldn’t move his hands from each other. Something was tied around them, tight. And as he kept trying to move, the same went with his legs, even his torso. Opening his mouth was impossible. His lips were sewn shut with some sort of tape.

 

It was hard to remember what had he been doing before...this. Where was he going for? Shutting his eyes, he tried to remember. He remembered his bike, trees… And then a red headed man. Ghost. He’d been on his way to see Ghost. Jayu Park.

 

But what had happened? Where was he?

 

He was exhausted, but he kept trying to piece everything together.

 

It hadn’t been Ghost who’d attacked him. There had been two men but neither of them were anything similar to Ghost. He had barely made out any voices between waking and falling in and out of unconsciousness. He remembered getting punched the first time he’d woken up rattled. He had been inside a moving van. He had no idea how long the drive had taken.

 

How long had he been out of it?

 

The exhaustion had a toll on him, and it didn’t take long before he blacked out again.

 

It didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed when he was woken up again, this time by force, as cold substance were thrown over him. The water made him wake up in an instant, and gasp in frighten. He could feel his body trembling and shivering.

 

”And there he is. The sleeping beauty has awaken!” A horselaugh rang in Donghae’s ears as he tried to open his eyes.

 

The water ran through his hair, and a cold swoosh of air woke him up even more. He was so cold and tired and the pain hadn’t subsided. He wagged his head to get rid of the extra water that was dripping over his eyes.

 

A man walked to him, ripping the tape off his mouth. It hurt like hell, but breathing got a lot easier.

 

”What the hell do you want?” Donghae hawked up, finding it hard to talk. His mouth was dry as a sandpaper. Eyeing the man standing in front of him, he realized there was another a little further back. Two men, which didn’t seem familiar to him. They were burly and robust, and the other had a buzzcut, whereas the other had his longer fringe slid over his head. Probably just hired guns, he thought, as nothing about them gave him any hints about who they really were.

 

The slimmer man smirked at him.

 

”Not much.”

 

The robust male snickered.

 

”Who are you working for?” Donghae demanded.

 

”Does it really matter? A lot of people want you gone. You and your little friends from Shiwang. We only care about the cash. Whoever has the fattest piggy bank wins.”

 

”So who hired you?” Donghae spat, getting frustrated with the taste of blood inside his mouth.

 

”Who the hell cares. You’re going to stay for a while and we can do whatever the hell we want. Feeling sore yet?”

 

Donghae gritted his teeth. The one with the slick hair had an annoying mouth. He wasn’t up for a guessing game. There were too many players, and it was hard to just pick one who’d do this. He knew there were some unsatisfied members of Xiezhi who would have rather had Hero as their leader. XZ Syndicate might be behind this, and to be honest, every other gang big or small that Xiezhi or Shiwang could’ve ever pissed off.

 

”If you don’t give a fuck, why won’t you just tell me?”

 

”Nah. Maybe later. You ask too many damn questions. Time to get back to sleep,” the man said, and as if Donghae hadn’t expected it, a fist knocked him out, all over again.

 

 

AN: Comments are much appreciated. ;P


	11. Trigger

11\. Trigger

 

Ghost shook up when he heard a knock against his car’s window. Struggling up, he threw away a jacket that he’d used as a blanket. The nights were cold to sleep in a car.

 

G.O stood outside, tilting his head and urging Ghost out. The red haired male opened the driver’s door for him, noticing the windshield was covered in frost.

 

”What the hell are you doing sleeping in your car? It’s fucking cold,” G.O rumbled as he stooped lower to peek at his comrade, who gave him a grunt as a reply when he tried to stretch his back.

 

”No idea,” he answered nonchalantly. Ghost staggered out of his car, throwing his jacket ovet his upper body. His throat was a little sore, and his muscles were stiff. The air was crisp and a the smell of exhaust fumes and smoke filled his nose. Their headquarters was so close to the industrial are that even the smell got there.

 

He let out a yawn, but he couldn’t get yesterday out of his head. Donghae’s bike flashed at the back of his mind, and how for the rest of the day he hadn’t been able to do else than think. Everything he already remembered, was just circling in his head in a loop.

 

”You’ve been a little disobedient. Gain doesn’t like that,” G.O noted, leaning against the black car.

 

Ghost gave him a look. ”Has she said something?”

 

”Not much,” the other started, lighting up a cigarette for himself. He hissed as he almost managed to burn his finger.

 

”Good,” Ghost muttered, licking his lips as he tried to decide if he could trust G.O and tell him about everything that had been going on. G.O was probably the only one he might have called his friend. He was easy-going and somewhat objective, he didn’t stick his nose too deep into people’s affairs and he always had his back.

 

”There’s something I need to tell you.”

 

”About Donghae?”

 

G.O’s question made him halt and stare at him.

 

”Yeah. As I was supposed to, I went after him. But when I found him...I couldn’t kill him because… He has the answers about my past, and I’d rather hear about it from him than anyone else.”

 

G.O nodded. He seemed rather unwavered.

 

”He challenged me to race, and said that if he won I would need to listen to what he has to say. It was a draw and we agreed to meet yesterday, so he could explain--”

 

”A draw? Did you let him catch you on purpose?” G.O seemed surprised, and at the same time a little amused.

 

”No. It seems I taught him how to drift.”

 

G.O snickered. ”You’re starting to remember things?”

 

”A little. Just pieces… Conversations.”

 

”So you went to meet him, to hear the story?”

 

”Yeah. And he didn’t show.”

 

”Seriously?” G.O had his eyebrow raised, quite disappointed.

 

”No, I mean, I’m not sure. I saw his bike there, and it seemed like...”

 

”Like?”

 

”As if he’d been taken. Kidnapped. Whatever. His bike was just laying there, as if it had fallen down during a struggle.”

 

The other stumped his cigarette and threw it into a pond of water. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he inhaled deep.

 

”Does that sound crazy to you?” Ghost asked. The cold was creeping into his bones.

 

G.O licked his lips, contemplating.

 

”Actually… It doesn’t, no. I’ve heard some rumors but I’m not sure if any of it is true. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

 

Ghost took a step forward towards the other man, who had his thumbs sunk into his pants’ pockets and a hood over his head.

 

”What? What is it?”

 

G.O stuttered. He wiped his nose, a little confused laugh escaping his lips.

 

”Don’t take my word for it, but people have been talking that the chinese gang, ZX or something, is actually part of Gamangnara. And Gamangnara is just a-a Korean branch of something called Gashadokuro. I think it’s Japanese? I don’t know if any of that is true though. Why would we be so in the dark about what we really are, huh?” G.O sounded that he was seriously confused about it, and a little frightened.

 

”And then there’s the fact that I heard some ZX’s people gossiping that they had someone from Xiezhi as a hostage. Ring any bells? That must be–”

 

”Donghae,” Ghost gasped, teetering on his legs as he tried to think. It was a lot to take in.

 

”So… You’re probably right about him getting snatched.”

 

”Well, shit...” Ghost threw his hands over his head. ”What the heck do they want with him?”

 

”Leverage… An example. The shooting few weeks back was probably just a conspiracy for ZX to have a reason to attack Shiwang. If no one really knows about their true relations to us, and Gashadokuro, then Shiwang and Xiezhi might be walking into a trap if ZX tricks them against itself. I have no idea to which capacity a war between them would lead then.”

 

There was so much new information coming that Ghost hadn’t expected. If his head didn’t hurt after the night in his car, it definitely did now.

 

”And I think Gain has her own reasons against Xiezhi or Shiwang or both.”

 

”Like what?” Ghost huffed, biting his lips.

 

”Back then when she ordered the shooting, I think she told you that her family was murdered.”

 

”You were listening?”

 

”I just overheard,” G.O grinned.

 

A silence fell in the air. Ghost tried to understand it all, but there was still too many loose ends he couldn’t stick together. But if Donghae had been kidnapped, how could he have the answers he needed?

 

”God, I need some coffee to understand this.”

 

”Me too. There’s a geat place few blocks away. Let’s hit it?”

 

”Sure. I think I have something else to ask you about… But first coffee,” Ghost muttered, following his comrade along the street. That part of Seoul was still a little sleepy, and the deep gray sky presaged a snowstorm coming their way. The red head pulled his jacket’s zipper up to his neck, tucking his hands into the pockets.

 

So many questions filled his head, with a nagging thought about Donghae. If ZX, or Gain, or anyone responsible really wanted to shake things up, they would eventually kill him, at least if they didn’t get what they wanted. But what did they really want, to begin with?

 

It made him sound crazy, but he was starting to consider a little side mission to save Donghae’s ass. He just wanted to know the truth, that’s all.

 

After a short walk to a 24/7 diner and cups of coffee at the table of their booth, Ghost buried his face to his hands. Why was everything so messy?

 

”You wanted to ask me something,” G.O softly noted, sipping his sugar filled milk coffee. He looked expectant, somewhat curious.

 

Ghost had been rolling the thought a lot since last night. He grunted in frustration.

 

”Well… Do you know anything about someone called Hyukjae? Supposedly someone from Shiwang.”

 

”Why the interest?” G.O’s eyebrow rose. He took another sip.

 

The diner was quiet, only a few people apart from them were around. It was early, closing eight in the morning.

 

”Just tell me for the christ’s sake, what do you know?”

 

G.O straightened his back, leaning against the red leather. He took a deep breath, and something in his eyes changed.

 

”Yes… He was a Shiwang, a leader of their sub-group called Black Diamonds. But he disappeared, about a year ago after a race between Xiezhi’s old leader and Donghae, who wanted it back, and who Xiezhi originally belonged to.”

 

So Donghae had told him the truth about that.

 

G.O looked indecisive again.

 

”Go on?” Ghost hurried.

 

”Uh… What I’ve heard, this Hyukjae killed Hero and saved Donghae. But no one has heard about him since,” the man explained, and there was suddenly a dark layer upon his eyes.

 

”What else?”

 

”What is it to you, really?” G.O was defensive, but something was cracking and turning in his head, Ghost could see. He knew more. If there was anything G.O knew about Hyukjae’s–his past, he wanted to know about it.

 

”Please?”

 

The other groaned. The other’s uneasiness started to get to Ghost too.

 

”It’s… It was kind of an open secret, not many knew but you know… People talk,” G.O turned his gaze into his coffee mug, then outside. Snow was falling down to the ground.

 

”Come on, what is it?”

 

The other sighed. ”Donghae and this Hyukjae… They were pretty close.”

 

Ghost furrowed his brows and rotated the spoon inside his mug. He cleared his throat.

 

”Close as…?”

 

”Friends, partners… Closer than that...”

 

He felt like someone poured a bucket of ice cold water over his head. It became a little harder to breath. What on earth was G.O saying?

 

”You mean...”

 

”In love.”

 

He just stared. Stared. But suddenly, all those voices inside his head made a little more sense. Ghost hadn’t really wanted to acknowledge the fact, but he’d always felt that mysterious emotion every time he was around Donghae. Like a pull, as if there was an invisible rope between them. And Donghae’s eyes when he’d confronted him… When he’d seen it the first time, he couldn’t understand it. If he really was Hyukjae…

 

That was just insane.

 

”A-are you sure…?” Ghost bit his tongue, and his voice was shaking. He couldn’t look the other man in the eye. Had he figured who he was, too?

 

”Unusually confident,” G.O said, as if a little apologetic.

 

Ghost didn’t know what to say. He leant his temples against his fingers, and his leg trembled by itself. He tried to breathe, but his insides were turning around. His blood pressure had probably gone off the roof. He felt panicky.

 

The brunet opposite to him clearly saw the turmoil over his friend, and he was quite sure why.

 

”Ghost–,” G.O started, and the smoothness and calm of his voice scared him. ”Look at me.”

 

Ghost could taste blood as he bit his tongue so hard. He raised his gaze from under his fringe, but he was still slumped against his hands.

 

This complicated everything. Why couldn’t he remember something like that?

 

”D-does Gain know that?” He found little courage to ask.

 

G.O shook his head. ”I don’t think she does. Not many do. As I said, people talk. Mostly bullshit. Not many believe everything though.”

 

Ghost started to physically calm down, but his head… His head could burst. He didn’t really know who Donghae was. Who Hyukjae had been. He only knew what he was now. Just Ghost. He didn’t know what Hyukjae had felt. Was it even true, what had been said about them?

 

”Donghae, he...”

 

Could he really tell G.O about his thoughts? What if he was wrong?

 

”He called me… Hyukjae.”

 

For Ghost’s surprise, G.O didn’t seem surprised at all. The brunet crossed his fingers together.

 

”Do you think it’s true?”

 

”You don’t seem surprised.”

 

”I might have… Suspected it,” G.O answered.

 

”You knew?”

 

G.O scoffed. ”I didn’t know anything. It was just a hunch. Too many coincidenses.”

 

Neither of them said more for a while. Ghost tried to swallow the fact that the man he was, had been, had been in love with Donghae. Maybe. He doubted he would remember false conversations from his past.

 

”Doesn’t that make me… Kind of a liability? For Gamangnara.”

 

G.O scratched his neck.

 

”But no one knows. Yet,” he muttered. Ghost gave him a fearful look. ”I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

 

”Why?”

 

G.O sighed, uneasy. ”I’m more of an opportunist than a loyalist… I was in a bad place few years ago, and Gamangnara saved me, sort of. I’ve stayed mostly because I had nowhere else to go.”

 

Ghost hummed. It sounded pretty much the same as his story. If Ghost had something better, would he leave? He hadn’t thought of it before, but as everything had started to come to light, his perspective could change.

 

”What are you going to do now?” G.O asked, curious.

 

”About what?”

 

”Anything.”

 

He didn’t really know himself. If Donghae was in trouble, what could he do? At this point he didn’t know nothing else but the fact that he needed Donghae alive. But a rescue mission? How would he accomplish something like that without Gamangnara getting on his scent? If they found out...

 

”I don’t know,” Ghost shaked his head, leaning it against his fist. ”What the hell I’m supposed to? I don’t really remember much. It’s not like I’m… That I’m Hyukjae again. I don’t know who he is. But I want answers.”

 

G.O sipped his coffee. It was already cold.

 

”If you don’t do anything, you might not get a chance to get those.”

 

”Why are you so … okay with everything?”

 

If everything meant that he was Hyukjae, it meant a lot of changes for him. Hyukjae was an enemy to Gamangnara. He was in love with a guy – which probably made him gay, or something like that. And he had a relationship with Xiezhi’s current leader?

 

And he’d thought his life as Ghost was difficult. Being a nobody, a spectre of someone, seemed a lot easier now.

 

But could he return to being Hyukjae again? Even if it was his past, could he live on with that?

 

 

”I’m no one to judge you, we all have our own problems to live with… But I think you have a decision to make.”

 

”Of what?”

 

G.O huffed, as if the question was something a fool would say.

 

”To go after Donghae or not?”

 

***

 

”Guys?”

 

Yesung rushed downstairs, holding his phone on his hand.

 

”Guys! Have you seen Donghae?”

 

”What the heck are you screaming at now, Yesung?” Kyuhyun snarled, sitting up from the couch of their living room. He’d been taking a nap, and he’d have rather take it in peace.

 

”Where is everyone?” Yesung asked, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

 

”What’s going on?” It was Sungmin, walking towards them from the kitchen. Heechul followed after him, looking like he was having a headache.

 

”Have you seen this?” the black haired man tapped his phone. There was a picture. ”Look at your phones!”

 

Everyone did pull out their smart phones.

 

”There’s a message,” Kyuhyun grunted.

 

”Open it!”

 

A dark picture opened before their eyes.

 

”Is that...”

 

”Donghae. Is Donghae here?” Yesung asked again, the scare painting his face white.

 

”He left yesterday morning,” Heechul swallowed, ”Hasn’t come back. I thought he...”

 

”But this is Donghae in the picture, isn’t it?” Sungmin continued.

 

The picture was dark and not a very good quality, but it was easy enough to identify that it was Donghae. Beaten and tied up, somewhere. Unconscious.

 

Long lost memories filled Heechul’s mind. Old times came back with a rush. He could’ve stopped Donghae from leaving. He should’ve asked where he was going. But he hadn’t. He had been too occupied with the revelation that Hyukjae was alive. Maybe it was time for him to tell the others.

 

”And there’s a message...” Yesung said, eerily calm.

 

”It says ’It’s payback time’,” Sungmin gulped. ”’Greetings, C.’”

 

”It must be Casper,” Kyuhyun noted, running his fingers through his hair. ”He thinks it was us who shot his men.”

 

”What the heck are we going to do? They are going to kill him for sure,” Sungmin said, falling down on the couch, scared.

 

Heechul took a deep breath, putting his phone back into his pocket.

 

”Guys… There’s something you need to know.”

 

The others looked at Heechul, confused. He cleared his throat.

 

”Hyukjae… He is alive.”

 

 

AN: Comments are life. ;P


	12. Rogue

12\. Rogue

 

”You’re saying Hyukjae is alive?”

 

Yunho sat on the arm chair of their living room, eyes stern and doubtful, eyebrows in a scowl. As if he’d just heard the worst joke of his life. Heechul couldn’t blame him; it was not something anyone would’ve taken lightly. But Heechul wasn’t joking, nor was it one of his stupid pranks either. He had seen the man himself, why would he lie about something like that? Everyone had gone through the loss, the grief, the funeral. Every one of them had missed the leader; their friend, comrade. A man they could’ve given their right hand for. If he had not been sure, he would’ve never told them. They didn’t need to go through the pain all over again.

 

”Yes,” the younger man said boldly, staring Yunho right in the eyes. He stood behind the couch, hands leaning against the headrest.

 

The others were dead silent. They hadn’t believed him the first time he opened his mouth. But it was the truth.

 

”Where did you see him, exactly?” Yunho continued, massaging his forehead. The bags under his eyes told he hadn’t been sleeping well last night. None of them had.

 

”At The Loop.” Heechul straightened his back, crossing his arms over his chest. He took cautious steps around the couch, stopping next to the coffee table in the middle of the couches. With a sigh, he went on: ”At the initiation party, Donghae lied to me about being mugged. I couldn’t believe it. Mugged? I trained himself for christ’s sake! He’s already been acting strange. Running off to whatever the hell he’s been doing. So I kept my eye on him. I followed him to the Loop. And he met someone. I couldn’t believe it either at first, but my eyes don’t lie! It was Hyukjae. I’m sure of it.”

 

”One hundred percent sure?” Kyuhyun scoffed.

 

”Yes!” Heechul rasped. ”I’ve known Hyukjae as long as you have, Yunho. I could recognize him anywhere! He’s alive!”

 

Yunho palmed his jaw, thoughtful. He wanted to believe, but his eyes still showed the doubt.

 

”How?” the leader replied, ”How is he alive, and how didn’t we know about it? Why hasn’t he come to us?”

 

”Well, obviously he survived the crash!”

 

They heard Sungmin humm.

 

”He could… He could be suffering from amnesia. Maybe he got out on his own, but he couldn’t remember anything? It is possible, after all...” the man thought aloud, and the rest tried to digest it.

 

”Then why didn’t Donghae tell us?” Kyuhyun snarled, stomping his foot. For Heechul’s surprise, Kyuhyun had been the most skeptical about the whole reveal. ”We’re supposed to be a family.”

 

”There must be a reason! Donghae’s stupid, but he’s not that stupid!” Heechul barked back.

 

”Okay guys, calm down,” Yunho reassured. He got his friends to shut up, but he knew there was still a lot to discuss. ”The only thing we’re sure right now, is the fact that ZX has Donghae, and we need to get him back. Any suggestions how we’re going to accomplish that?”

 

There was a silence, but then the front door opening got everyone’s attention. But who the incomer was, didn’t really succeed to calm anyone.

 

”I’m sorry I’m late!” Zhoumi shouted, kicking off his shoes. ”The storm is getting bad, the traffic was crazy slow.” The incomer shook some snow of his head, before he accompanied the others in the living room.

 

”No worries, glad you made it here in one peace,” Yunho muttered.

 

”Any news?”

 

Heechul gave Yunho a questioning look before he opened his mouth.

 

”Hyukjae’s alive.”

 

”What?” Zhoumi was stunned for a minute, but slowly, he started to look like he was contemplating something. ”Are you sure?”

 

”Yes,” Heechul answered before anyone was able to say otherwise.

 

”So… It’s ZX behind this, the kidnapping?”

 

Yunho nodded.

 

Zhoumi bit the inside of his cheek. Heechul eyed him, curious. There was something he wasn’t telling them.

 

”Spit it out.”

 

Zhoumi halted.

 

”You know something.”

 

”I was just… Wondering if you ever caught one of the shooters? The one Donghae came to ask me about? He might know something about this?”

 

”What are you talking about?” Yunho stood up.

 

”Huh? He didn’t tell you?”

 

”Tell us what?”

 

”That one of shooters, who shot Donghae, is most likely a guy from Gamangnara. The red head. People call him Ghost.” Zhoumi sat down on the couch that was still empty. He seemed bewildered about the fact that Donghae had lied to him.

 

”The red head?” Heechul asked, as if it was something important. But it really was.

 

”Y-yeah… Donghae said he saw the shooter, and he had red hair.”

 

”Hyukjae is Ghost!” Heechul gasped. ”The red hair–when I saw Hyukjae, he had red hair!”

 

”But...” Sungmin started, ”He belongs to Gamangnara now? How is that?”

 

”Maybe they’ve fed him lies about who he is. If he doesn’t remember, it could be easy to brainwash someone like that,” Kyuhyun mumbled.

 

”And the mugging...” Heechul rambled, ”It could’ve been Hyukjae. Ghost. Whatever. Donghae seemed rattled after that, something wasn’t right. Maybe Donghae recognized him. Maybe it was some sort of a trap. If he was one of the shooters, it means it wasn’t ZX. Maybe it was that Gamangr-whatever? Who the hell are they?”

 

”Trap or not, they’re aiming for something. They’re pitting us against ZX,” Yunho noted. ”But whatever the reason, I don’t think we have a lot of time. We need to get Donghae out as soon as possible. If Xiezhi loses their leader...”

 

”Don’t even say that,” Sungmin winced.

 

”So what are we going to do? We don’t even know where he is held at.” Kyuhyun glowered, biting his fingernails.

 

Everyone was on edge.

 

”I can ask around,” Zhoumi said, standing up from the couch and pulling out his phone.

 

”Do that.” Yunho did the same. ”I’ll try to contact Casper.”

 

”So what are we supposed to do? Wait?” Heechul scoffed.

 

”Yes, for now.”

 

Heechul clicked his tongue in annoyance. But Yunho was right, there wasn’t a lot they could do before they got some information. When the leader exited to his office, Heechul stood up too, and started marching in circles. However, he wasn’t going to quit yet. If Hyukjae was indeed the Ghost Zhoumi was talking about, it was a lot easier to find the man when they knew what they were looking for.

 

”We need to find that Ghost,” he finally said out loud.

 

”Is that wise? He could be one behind this. We can’t trust him before we know more,” Kyuhyun rejected.

 

”He’s still one of us,” Sungmin said, rather defensive.

 

”We don’t know him any more. He’s someone else.”

 

Sungmin bit his lower lip, knowing Kyuhyun had a point.

 

Heechul turned to face his comrades. ”I saw them talking. At least they weren’t at each other’s throats. I think it’s our only shot at this point.”

 

”But Yunho just said...”

 

”And he also said we don’t have a lot of time on our hands,” Heechul said, tone stern. ”I’m going after him, whatever you say.”

 

Sungmin glanced at Kyuhyun, frustrated.

 

”It’s probably best I go alone. We don’t want to spook him off.”

 

”You think that’s a good idea?” Kyuhyun noted.

 

”Do you have any better ideas?” the older man snarled back. ”Zhoumi!”

 

”Yes?” the barista answered, ending a call in a hurry.

 

”You know Seoul better than me, and you probably know someone who could help us find Ghost. Can you do that for me?”

 

”Of course.”

 

***

 

The snowstorm was still raging outside, unusual for the time of the year. The ground was covered in a thick layer of it, roads were constantly jammed, and the city seemed to be under chaos. It didn’t seem it was going to stop anytime soon.

 

Ghost watched out his window, deep in thought. Some of the memories that had resurfaced, most of them just conversations, had a lot more meaning now that he knew about the relationship Donghae and Hyukjae had had before the crash. They had started to make sense. Not for him, personally, but in context.

 

He didn’t feel what Hyukjae had been feeling. How could he? He didn’t know anything about Donghae. The man he was like, it was simply a question for him. But even if he didn’t know him, nor himself to begin with, he knew one thing. Even when Donghae was a stranger to him, there was a certain amount of electricity in the air. He could feel it. It came from somewhere deep within.

 

A knock interrupted his thoughts, and when he turned, he saw G.O peeking in from behind the door.

 

”There’s someone downstairs asking for you,” the man said, eyebrow raised.

 

”Who?” Ghost grunted, frowning.

 

”He says he’s just a courier. He won’t talk to anyone else.”

 

Ghost eyed the other from head to toe, but the curiosity was getting the best of him.

 

”He’s at the front door,” G.O muttered before he disappeared.

 

Ghost felt a churn down his stomach. Who would send a message for him? Barely no one knew him. The man left the room, mind buzzling more than ever. He was already confused about so many things, one of them being the fact that he was rather sure that he would go after Donghae. He just wanted to know the goddamn truth, he wanted to know who he really was.

 

As he walked down the stairs, and headed towards the door, his heart wouldn’t stop racing. When he reached the door, and stepped outside into the cold where snow was pouring down horizontally, he immediately regretted that he’d not taken a jacket with him. It was freaking cold. But the man he was now face to face, didn’t seem to mind. He had a thick jacket, hood over his head. Nothing about his appearance seemed familiar.

 

”Who are you?” he blurted.

 

”You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I’m just the messenger,” he said coldly, putting a rolled paper into Ghost’s hand.

 

He wasn’t able to utter a single word, before the man already took off, disappearing into the storm. Ghost scoffed, but decided to retreat back inside.

 

He almost crashed G.O as he did.

 

”So who was he?” the brunet asked.

 

Ghost rolled his eyes.

 

”You don’t have a life, do you?” he snorted, ruffling his hair from the snow.

 

G.O scoffed. ”So, what did he want?”

 

”I don’t know,” Ghost mumbled, clasping the paper between his palm.

 

”You don’t know?”

 

”He gave me a piece of paper, don’t know what it says because I didn’t have a chance to look at it!”

 

”Pfft. I’ll leave you to it then. Party pooper.”

 

He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes again.

 

But the paper burning in his hand, he ran back to his room upstairs. Sitting on his bed, he eyed the paper as if it was something dangerous. Well, it could be. He was unsure about opening it, because he had no idea what it was about. But after a minute of stalling, he finally opened it.

 

I know who you are, and I know you’ve seen Donghae.

We need to talk.

If you want to find out what this is about, meet me.

Tonight, 10PM. Copper Frog (restaurant), Incheon.

Come alone, Hyukjae.

 

What the heck was this? Who would want to meet him? And what the hell was Copper Frog?

 

The paper was indeed, a little dangerous. He knew he probably shouldn’t do it, but how was he supposed to leave it at that? If he the sender knew his real name, he had to know more about him.

 

Ghost glanced the clock, feeling a rush inside. Would he get some answers? And how did they know he’d met Donghae? Had he been followed?

 

It was nearing 8PM. It would take some time to dig his car from under all that snow. Ghost took his jacket, and without a second thought, hurried out of the building.

 

 

***

 

He was a little late. It had taken a bit effort to find the place in the snowstorm, but he’d finally parked his car on the other side of the street, where the traditional looking building stood at the end of wide stairs. Although the snow had covered a lot of its features, Ghost could see the two lion like stone beasts guarding it. At the top of the roof, there was another creature. Maybe it was the so called frog, he couldn’t be sure in the dark.

 

Locking his car, Ghost ran over the road, mindful of slipping on the ice. His blood was boiling in anxiety, his hands were clammy. Something about the building gave him a familiar vibe, but he couldn’t be sure why. Had he been there before?

 

Rushing along the steps, he tried to think who would be there meeting him. But he had no idea who it could be. He only knew people from Gamangnara, and Donghae. Could it be someone from Shiwang? Xiezhi? That someone must have known Donghae, since his name was mentioned in the letter he got. But who?

 

He walked through the heavy doors into a dim litted restaurant, where a variety of scents soon filled his nose. It was a Korean restaurant, the smell was distinct. Maybe barbeque. The door clanked after him, and he was soon facing two, burly men in black clothing, standing at the entrance like the guarding lions outside. It was rather obvious that they were the security. Why would a restaurant need security? For him?

 

He eyed them suspiciously, until the other took a step before him, preventing him from going further.

 

”Security check,” the man grunted, rather bored.

 

Ghost gave him another look, but complied as he raised his hands and let the man do his job. He’d left his gun in the car, for whatever reason he wasn’t quite sure of.

 

”You can go. He’s waiting,” the security guy noted, and Ghost nodded.

 

But who was waiting?

 

He entered the restaurant, but realized it was uncomfortably quiet. No customers were around, but he finally saw a figure sitting at the far end table. A warm light was above it, but the shadows covered the man’s face.

 

Ghost swallowed, closing in on the table. It was already past ten.

 

Stopping at the other end of the table, he eyed the man he’d come to meet. He had a little reddish tint on his brown hair, and a burgundy blazer. The man’s eyes were sharp, observant.

 

”I wasn’t sure you’d show,” the man said, giving the creeps for Ghost. ”Sit.”

 

He sat. Then the familiarity hit him.

 

”Do you remember me?”

 

”I’m not sure,” Ghost said. His voice gave his anxiety away.

 

”My name is Heechul.”

 

Ghost saw a flash of images fly behind his eyes, but it was hard to grasp on them.

 

”You know me?” the red head asked, placing his arm on top of the table.

 

”I did,” Heechul replied. His eyes were conflicted.

 

”So you know my real name. You know who I was.”

 

”Yes. Do you?”

 

Ghost gazed back to the man, tugging a part of his lower lip between his teeth. What was this Heechul after? Why’d he been summoned? How much did he know about him-or rather, Hyukjae?

 

”I...” he started, but in reality, he didn’t know what he wanted to say. ”Why am I here?”

 

”Right to the point. Good,” Heechul muttered, taking a sip from his glass. It looked like water, but it could’ve as easily been vodka. ”I’ve seen you with Donghae, Xiezhi’s leader, as you may know.”

 

”You’ve been following me.”

 

”Not you, exactly. I was following Donghae, but when I saw you...” Something flickered in the man’s eyes. ”I recognized you. You know you’re Hyukjae, don’t you, Ghost? How much do you know of yourself?”

 

”I know my name, but not much else. I was part of Shiwang once. But I don’t remember details,” Ghost replied, locking his eyes to the table.

 

”You were. What did you want with Donghae?” Heechul asked, suspicious.

 

”We raced. Donghae was supposed to tell me the truth about about everything the day after that, but he never showed.”

 

Heechul hummed, thoughtful.

 

”Because he was kidnapped.”

 

Ghost gave him a look, rolling a napkin with his fingers. ”By ZX, I’ve heard,” he noted.

 

”And you don’t know anything about it?” Heechul continued, stern. He had to make sure Ghost had nothing to do with it.

 

”No really. I wanted him to tell me about everything, why would I want to kidnap him?”

 

Heechul smirked. It was unbelieavable Hyukjae was sitting in front of him, unharmer, and most importantly, alive.

 

”They’re going to kill him, aren’t they?” Ghost continued, the anxiety pushing through again.

 

”Most likely.”

 

”I want to find him before they do,” Ghost blurted, straightening his back in his seat.

 

”I guess we’re on the same page, then.

 

”Should I trust you?”

 

”I don’t know. Should I trust you?” Heechul grunted back. ”We’re supposed to be on the rivaling sides.”

 

”No one knows I’m here. I’m unarmed. You could easily take me out, if you wanted.”

 

”I could,” Heechul smiled, ”But I think you have more use alive.” He saw the old Hyukjae behind it all; behind the leather jacket, the red hair, the mask of a ghost. It was there somewhere, hidden underneath. He knew that with the right lures, Hyukjae would eventually rise to the surface.

 

”So, are we going to do this? Save Donghae?”

 

”Yes, my friend. We’re going rouge.”

 

 

AN: Next chapter is going to be more action packed. ..:)  
Comments are life!


	13. Not Today

13\. Not Today

 

”Can you trust him?”

 

”Who knows,” Heechul replied, assembling his gun back together.

 

”Does he remember anything?” Yunho continued, obviously nervous about the whole mission. He had been furious that Heechul had went to meet Ghost on his own; he could’ve gotten himself killed. He also didn’t agree with Heechul even now, but so far, it seemed to be the only option they got. Letting Heechul go, even if with Yesung as his backup, did seem a little risky. They couldn’t be sure how many men they’d be up against, even if they’ve gotten an estimate from Zhoumi’s contacts.

 

Donghae was held up in a warehouse in Seoul, and as far as they knew, the place got at least four men guarding the place. All at once or in one man shifts, they weren’t sure.

 

”Not a lot. He knows his name, bits about the facts, some conversations.”

 

”The minute you need more manpower, call. Preferably before things escalade,” Yunho rumbled, and Heechul saw clearly behind the leader’s calm facade.

 

”Calm down, we got this. We get in, we get Donghae, and we are out. Simple. We have two of our best snipers, and Hyuk-Ghost. We’re pretty solid.”

 

”I wouldn’t count on that.”

 

***

 

”Why do I need to be in on this?” G.O whined, eyeing the street outside their van. It was quiet, in the middle of the night, as they waited for the Shiwang’s people to show up.

 

”You’re the only one I trust with this, I guess. We’re going against our own code, helping the enemy. If something happens, if they go behind our backs, I can trust you to be there to save my ass, am I right?” Ghost muttered, as he eyed the clock on the car’s dashboard. They should’ve gotten there already. Where were they?

 

”We should be kicked out for doing this.”

 

”We should,” Ghost mumbled back, and saw a distant gleam of headlights getting closer behind them. Soon, the lights went dark. ”They’re here.” He took his Glock from the dashboard, taking the safety off and jumping out of the car. He waltzed behind the van as the car stopped beside the road. The passenger’s window lowered open.

 

”We doing this?” he asked. Heechul sat on the seat, another man on the driver’s seat peeking at him curiously. He had black hair, narrow eyes. Ghost saw a gun on his lap.

 

”Yes. The plan is clear for everyone, aye?” the cat-eyed man ensured.

 

”We go in first, clear the way for you. We cover, you take Donghae. We go on our separate ways,” Ghost repeated the plan they had discussed earlier the day. It had holes, but there had to be always room for improvisation. They were going in blind, knowing the risks. ”I get to talk with Donghae later.”

 

”If you don’t mess this up,” Yesung grunted from the other side. He wasn’t as wary about Ghost as Kyuhyun was, but he didn’t trust the man either. ”Because if you do, you’re dead men.”

 

”Trust him,” Heechul smirked at Ghost. ”You will be.”

 

”Deal’s a deal,” Ghost replied. He saw clearly they weren’t playing around. ”Let’s get this party started.” He clapped the roof of the car, and received a nod before the car took off.

 

The adrenaline inside him was making him feel skittish, but he liked it. He was at his sharpest in dangerous situations. He loved the rush, the danger. But he knew a life was at stake. An important one. If it came to him, he would not let Donghae die – not before he’d told him everything. Not today.

 

 

 

The warehouse loomed ahead, grim and barbed wired. It seemed empty, but they saw two cars parked around its corner. There were no lights on. During the twenty minute stakeout, they’d only seen one guard on the perimeter. There could be more inside. The guard itself had an automatic rifle on his hands.

 

The van was parked in front of the warehouse, but hidden from sight. It stood behind a big container, and the car that held Heechul and the other guy, was at the back of the building.

 

G.O loaded his gun, stuffing more rounds into his jacket.

 

The line to Heechul’s phone was connected.

 

”Only one guard,” Ghost spoke to the phone that was on speaker. ”He takes a round every 8 minutes, give or take.”

 

”So that’s our window,” he heard Yesung’s distant voice coming from the phone.

 

”If he’s the only one. There could be more men inside,” G.O pointed out.

 

”We have to take that chance,” Ghost thought aloud.

 

”So, when the guard leaves his post, you go. When he comes back, you take him out. Meanwhile, we get in. We find Donghae. You cover. Clear?”

 

”Copy,” G.O answered. He’d started to look more like a soldier. For once, he was serious, calm and collected.

 

”I’ll keep the line open,” Ghost mumbled as he tucked a bluetooth on his ear.

 

”Target’s on the move,” G.O said with excitement, watching as the guard started to walk along the building’s wall.

 

”Going in. Good luck.”

 

They left their van as the guard disappeared around the corner. They ran to the entrance, G.O first, Ghost following close behind. Having their guns on their hands, they sneaked towards the other end of the wall. Ghost could hear his fastened breathing up his ears, but he found himself focused. However, anything could go wrong in the blink of an eye. What would they do if there were a dozen men? If one of them made a mistake?

 

”Put the mask on,” Ghost said after G.O turned back to face him, gesturing him that the guard hadn’t yet made the round. ”We don’t want these people telling ours that we were one of them. Or we’re toast.” He pulled his own hood over his head and the baseball cap that hid his hair, and pulled the face mask over his nose. The people they were up against would only be able to see their eyes, which was hopefully enough to hide their identitites.

 

”Shut up,” G.O hissed, pulling the mask over his own face in a hurry. ”He’s coming.”

 

Seconds passed by, but as they waited it seemed like minutes. G.O rose his fingers one by one, to the count of three. The guard turned around the corner, and G.O whacked his gun against the man’s head. A loud thud was heard as the man fell down to the snowy ground. They could’ve shot him, but then they would have been heard. Getting in when the enemy didn’t know they were coming gave them an advantage. A shot would’ve gotten the possible defense on alert.

 

Ghost pulled the man a little further behind the corner, next to a garbage can. ”Tie his hands,” he mumbled. The weight of an unconscious man felt heavy.

 

G.O did as he was told.

 

Suddenly they heard a crackling voice.

 

’Jiwon, come in. What’s your status? Could we order pizza? I’m starving, man.’

 

”Shit, they have radios,” Ghost grunted, ”They’re going to notice his absence soon.”

 

”We got to hurry,” G.O rumbled, ”Take the radio, I’ll create a distraction just in case.”

 

Ghost grapped the walkie-talkie from the unconscious guard before he took a look around. He gazed back to G.O, frowning as G.O lit up a match. He threw the match into one of the garbage cans, and made sure it took off.

 

”Let’s go,” the other man said as he turned back to his comrade.

 

Ghost gave him a nod, before the ran to the door that’d let them in.

 

”Heechul,” Ghost whispered, hoping the line was still connected. ”There’s at least one man inside. But the guard is down.”

 

”Good. We’re in position.”

 

G.O opened the door, securing the entrance as Ghost fled inside. That part of the hall was dark, but in the distance there was a gleam of light.

 

’Jiwon? What’s going on? I need an answer.’

 

They sneaked around some containers that were held inside, constantly looking over their shoulder.

 

Ghost would feel the sweat dripping down his forehead. He wasn’t so used to these kinds of missions. He was more of an improviser, preferably in situations he already knew what he was up against. He also excelled in close combat situations. G.O, on the other hand, was the opposite he usually was. It made him wonder if he’d been in the military, or something similar.

 

Having to cover a lot of ground, G.O gestured him that he would go up the stairs to the second floor, which would give them a better view of the hall and he could direct Ghost to the right direction. Ghost didn’t mind, G.O had a better aim from a distance.

 

’Jiwon! Status!’

 

Biting his teeth together Ghost walked further. The warehouse was a labyrinth, and it seemed a lot smaller from the outside. But inside, it was full of different areas, filled with containers, and navigating through it was a handful when they didn’t know where exactly Donghae was held at.

 

The origin of the light was starting to come near when Ghost gazed up, seeing G.O sneaking at the upper level. The path his comrade was taking seemed like a maintenance course, as the grid walk went around the hall, near the roof.

 

Ghost heard Yesung’s voice coming from his bluetooth.

 

”We’re in.”

 

But a weight dropped inside him, as the radio cracked again.

 

’We’ve been breatched! Jiwon, for fuck’s sake! I saw two guys coming in from the north side!’

 

Ghost took a breath as he realized they’d come from the south side of the building. But Heechul and Yesung had just been compromised.

 

”They know you’re here,” Ghost whispered to the bluetooth again, voice low. He stopped behind a wall, listening for any sounds. He heard rustling, men talking heatedly. He gazed back to G.O, who had the best view. From the distance, he saw G.O raise five fingers.

 

”There’s five of ’em inside,” he continued to speak, hoping Yesung and Heechul would hear them in time.

 

Guns started firing, and the yells echoed to his ears. He held his own gun with his two hands, taking a few deep breaths. The noises were coming behind a row of containers. They were close.

 

”Ghost!” Yesung’s voice cracked. ”We’re taking fire!”

 

”Can you manage? Any sign of Donghae?” he replied, rushing forward. Between the two containers, he saw the guards hiding bedind metal pillars and wooden boxes. At the center there was a table, filled with beer bottles, food containers and papers, and forgotten stacks of cards. They’d been there for a while. A glimpse of Yesung rushing behind cover flashed in front him, and the gun fire ceased for a moment.

 

”Donghae’s in one of the containers,” Heechul snarled, and Ghost heard how he loaded a new round of bullets into his gun. ”He doesn’t seem to be conscious. Bastard.”

 

”What do you want us to do?” Ghost asked, sneaking closer between the containers, closer to the place a single lamp hang from the ceiling, lightening up the main estrade. One of the guards started shooting again, only hitting a wooden box. Heechul was probably behind it.

 

”We need you to get Donghae out,” Heechul exhaled, ”They don’t seem to know about you two yet. We cover for you.”

 

”Copy that,” Ghost said confidently, licking his lips in anticipation. ”Which container?”

 

Heechul was shooting back at the guards. It was like push and pull, no one really got hit, but it prevented from them to get closer.

 

”The third from your left,” Yesung grunted.

 

Ghost didn’t answer, but he ran back behind the containers, hoping to go unnoticed as long as possible. The third container was a rusty, green colored one. He gazed back up, searching for G.O. He needed him to be ready to shoot if someone saw him. Changing gestures, Ghost proceeded behind the opened container door, and peeked behind it. The guards seemed occupied with Heechul and Yesung, and it didn’t seem they knew about Ghost at all at this point. He stuffed his gun behind his back and into his pants, freeing his hands. Looking at G.O again, he waited for him to sign that it was clear to go. When it came, he hurried inside the container.

 

It smelled dunk inside the container. A little bit fishy, mixing with blood and rust. The smell made him hold his breath. Donghae was there, tied around a chair. His dark, dirty hair fell over his tilted, ghastly face. The face was covered in dark bruises and dried blood. A gash went over his eyebrow, and his lips were chapped and cut. Although he was wearing clothes, it must’ve been freezing. The warehouse wasn’t heated, and the cold wind brushed through the walls.

 

Ghost looked at him for a few seconds before he went to open the rope around his hands that we’re tied behind his back. As his fingers touched the skin, he felt how stiff and cold they were, how the healthy color had faded. Donghae was in bad shape. He had to get him out of there. Pulling a swiss knife from his pocket, he cut the ropes around his wrists. As he went on, he cut the ones around his torso and around his legs, but Donghae started to fall sideways since his ragdoll-like body no longer had the support. Ghost grabbed the man under his armpits, steadying the body first, before he started to pull him out of the container.

 

This time, he had to trust his own judgement for getting out, because he couldn’t see G.O behind the container’s doors. The guns were still firing as he decided it was his chance. One of the guard’s had left his post to pursue Heechul, but Heechul had managed to hit him with a bullet. The man had fallen down on the ground, and Yesung had finished him off with another bullet.

 

”Give us the hostage!” Heechul suddenly yelled.

 

Some of the guards laughed. ”No way in hell!”

 

It was Heechul’s effort of keeping the guards occupied and interested in them, instead of letting them notice Ghost.

 

But it was just a matter of time before someone would take a note of him, and whilst trying to get Donghae to safety, Ghost was defenseless.

 

And in that moment, a shot was fired. Ghost felt how the bullet scraped his arm, the force making him to fall down with Donghae.

 

”They’re getting away!” one man shouted.

 

G.O shot him quiet.

 

Ghost managed to move a metal canister in front of them, as G.O fired back at the guards from above. He had to catch his breath, as he took a look of his wounded arm. Thankfully, it was nothing. The blood stained his shirt, and underneath it didn’t look very pretty, but the bullet had only gashed his skin. He had to keep going, or the men would have a chance to stop him.

 

As G.O kept the enemy occupied, Ghost clasped his hands around Donghae again and started pulling him along.

 

More shots fired.

 

Further away, Yesung ran across the hall, from pillar to pillar. G.O managed to take another man out, and there was only three of them left.

 

”Ghost, you need to go! We can handle this!” Heechul shouted in his ear.

 

Ghost managed to get them behind the container.

 

G.O shoot a few more rounds, before he had a chance to come running down to the ground floor. One of the guards had managed to get rather close to Ghost by now. He suddenly smelled smoke. The garbage cans… The fire could’ve gotten inside at that point.

 

”Are you sure?” he hissed back.

 

”Donghae is our priority!” Heechul growled.

 

”Copy that,” he replied, ”Be careful, this place is going to fill with smoke soon. G.O lit up a garbage can outside.”

 

”Alright,” Heechul said, and Ghost could’ve sworn he heard a smirk from his tone. ”Heechul out.” The line went dead.

 

Ghost had to stop to catch his breath. The blood loss had started to make him light headed, but he had to keep on going, he couldn’t stop now.

 

After a few meters, G.O rushed towards him, face hard, focused.

 

”You’ve been shot,” the man noted, grabbing Donghae from his other arm. Ghost halted again, his head spun.

 

”It’s just a scrape,” he rumbled back.

 

”It’s not,” G.O hissed, pointing out a bloody part of Ghost’s jacket, on his lower abdomen.

 

Ghost hadn’t noticed it before. There was, indeed a bullet hole at the hem of his black hoodie. Probably the adrenaline had made him miss that shot.

 

”It’s nothing,” he muttered, but G.O slapped his grib off.

 

”Get pressure on it, and cover us. I’ll carry Donghae out. Just don’t blackout now, is that clear? We’ll make it to the van,” G.O growled, now worried and a little anxious. He took a better grib of the youngest, lifting him over his shoulder. ”We’re not here to die, alright? No one dies tonight. Let’s go!”

 

Ghost nodded, blinking the haziness away as he pulled out his gun with his right hand, at the same time keeping pressure on his stomach with his left. G.O started to move, and Ghost followed him, keeping sure no one would come after them alive.

 

The smoke filling his lungs, he realized the fire was blazing at the other side of the hall. He saw G.O coughing.

 

”There’s a side exit,” the man hollered, pushing through light smoke.

 

Ghost didn’t reply. All his energy went for breathing and getting forward. His left hand felt damb from blood, but he blocked the pain. He would only let go once they were in the van.

 

More gunshots echoed from a distance, and a voice shouted about the fire.

 

The way to the side exit felt like an eternity.

 

His sight was beginning to blur.

 

Then he saw a light, and suddenly the cold, fresh air filled his lungs again.

 

”Come on, Ghost!” G.O hurried him. As the door shut after him, Ghost staggered outside. He couldn’t hold his aim and the gun anymore, instead, he focused everything on getting to the black car waiting for them at the end of the yard.

 

G.O opened the van’s side door, and let Donghae fall down on the floor.

 

”Get in!”

 

And explosion went off behind them.

 

Ghost grabbed the passenger’s door, and threw himself inside.

 

The west side of the warehouse was on fire, and a thick cloud of smog fumed from the hole in the wall. Distant noise of sirens crept to their ears. Ash and pieces of metal and wood rained from the orange sky, falling to the ground, on top of the white snow as the van sped off.

 

 

AN: Comments are life :)


	14. Bleed It Out

14\. Bleed It Out

 

Distant lights. Darkness. A bright, white light. An explosion. Blood. Pain. Blur.

 

”Seriously man–you gotta stay awake!”

 

Why did the pain suddenly disappear?

 

”Ghost! For fuck’s sake! Five minutes. Stay awake!”

 

 

”Come on now,” G.O hissed after opening the passenger’s door to circle his arm around the red head’s back. He eyed the wound on the man’s stomach, gritting his teeth as he witnessed the dark, damp patch on the man’s clothes. Ghost was losing blood, fast, but with the knowledge he had, he thought he might be able to save him in time.

 

He didn’t worry about Donghae. As far as he’d been able to see, the Xiezhi’s leader didn’t have any life threatening wounds. He could wait. Ghost was the one he needed to worry right now.

 

Ghost wasn’t unconscious, but grasping to the reality had become hard. He was only able to discern some random, hollow noises that sounded like they were coming far away, and right beside his ear at the next second. His sight wasn’t any better. He saw some spots of colors, or the darkness. There was no between. He wasn’t really there either, his brains were a mess and he kept seeing things he’d not seen before. But the scenes seemed so real. At a point, he clearly felt like he was driving a fast car, but the next moment he was suddenly elsewhere. Donghae’s face was one of the things he kept seeing, but nothing made sense. He had not kissed Donghae. He had not seen Donghae dancing. He had not wanted anyone before.

 

He felt a rush of emotions he had never felt before. Excitement, attraction, hate, anger, fear, love. The fear of losing someone.

 

They didn’t belong to him. They were… Someone else’s.

 

The cold snow blazed against them, as G.O tried to rush them inside a building. Ghost was barely able to walk, and moving forward was a struggle.

 

Ghost blinked his eyes lazily, but he couldn’t focus. He felt heavy. He was exhausted.

 

”Where… Where are...” he mumbled, incoherent.

 

G.O peeked at the man’s white face, as he pushed them inside an elevator of an old apartment building. He pushed a button that showed a number 3. The elevator started to move with a clank, and he kept wishing he still had the needed skills to keep his comrade alive.

 

”I used to live here,” G.O muttered, as the elevator reached the right floor. By talking, he only tried to keep the younger man awake and occupied. ”I still own the apartment… I just haven’t…been here in a while. Watch your step. We’re here.” The door to the apartment was just a few steps away, but he could feel how Ghost’s body was becoming more flabby every second. ”Goddammit,” he grunted, pushing the man’s body between his and the wall to keep him steady. He searched for the keys, silently hoping everything wouldn’t always be such a struggle. But he thanked his mind for keeping calm, he didn’t need any more problems at this point even if the explosion had made him relive moments from his past he wished he could’ve forgotten.

 

As the door opened, he hurried inside, lugging Ghost with him by his armpits. A trail of blood followed them. When he reached a dusty dinner table, he swung his arm over it, dropping everything from it to the floor. With some difficulties, he managed to lift the vaguely conscious man on top of the table.

 

”Don’t die on me, please. Ghost, can you hear me?” he tried, not getting an answer, but he saw the man’s eyes moving through his half-shut eyelids. ”Ghost!” He stared at the man for a few seconds, before he grunted in frustration and ran the zipper of his hoodie down. He took a pocket knife from his jacket’s pocket, and tore apart his blood stained shirt. Cautiously, he shifted the man so he could see if the bullet had gone through. But no, it seemed it was still inside.

 

”I need to get the bullet out,” he murmured, trying to get his tangled mess of a head in order. He rushed to the small kitchen just next to them, going through a few drawers before he found what he was looking from. He came back with a small bag, and reached towards a shelf on his right. He took a bottle of alcohol, and unscrewed the cork.

 

”This is going to hurt,” G.O said, hoping Ghost would still hear him. Opening the bag he’d gone for, he took a roll of gauze and forced it into the red head’s mouth. It unnerved him a little that Ghost didn’t response.

 

”Fucking hell. G.O, you can do this. You know what to do,” he talked to himself, breathless, before he poured the alcohol onto the wound, and then onto the tweezers and his hands. A part of the blood washed away with the alcohol, and he dug his finger inside the wound, looking for the bullet. When he touched the metal, he backed up and switched to fish it with the tweezers. Ghost was barely grunting, which at least made his job easier when the man wasn’t screaming in agony and twisting in pain. The tweezers hooked the bullet, and he pulled it out, with a trembling, relieved exhale. The bullet dropped to the floor with a cling. He hadn’t noticed how cold sweat was dripping down his forehead.

 

”Fuck,” he breathed, ”Got it. Now I need to stitch you up. Ghost? You there?” Steadying his hands, he took a needle and some thread. It didn’t need a lot of stitches. He was almost done, and he just had to hope the gunshot wouldn’t have caused any interior problems. When the wound was stitched shut, G.O dropped down to a chair, wiping his bloody hands onto his pants. He had to catch his breath for a moment, but he knew Ghost was in need of some blood.

 

G.O pulled his sleeve up, and took the needed supplies from his emergency bag he’d stuffed with everything he’d thought he might need some day. And this was the day.

 

”Just your luck I’m an universal donor,” G.O grunted, as he stuck the needle into his arm and set up the transfusion. When he was done, he sat down again with a sigh.

 

”You owe me, asshole.”

 

 

Something bright glimmered to his eyes, when he blinked them for the first time. When he tried to move, a rush of pain washed over him. He couldn’t comprehend where it was coming from. Bits and pieces were slowly coming back to him, as he slowly moved his fingers. Had there been shooting? A loud explosion? He slowly got his eyes open, but he had to shut them again because the light was piercing. Starting to remember, his eyes flew open. The warehouse. Donghae. Had they made it?

 

Grunting, Ghost lifted his cold hand, finding his bare chest under the touch. He felt a pain all over his body, but mainly, it came from his abdomen. He remembered the smoke, the thick scent. The run for their van. After that, there was nothing. No idea what had happened, or where he was.

 

Despite his mouth feeling dry, as if it was filled with sand, he tried to speak. But it came out as a mere hissing sound.

 

”Ghost,” he suddenly heard a familiar voice, somewhere near him. ”Are you awake?”

 

”Ugh,” he rumbled, turning his head. The blurry sight, the dark figure beside him started to come into focus. ”G.O…?”

 

”Yes, it’s me,” the older man replied, observing the male still lying on the table. Finally, he was able to sigh in relief.

 

”What…” he uttered, but a flash of Donghae shook him awake. ”Donghae? Where...”

 

G.O snorted. ”Of course you’d ask about him instead of me. I’m okay, for your information. And you will be too–”

 

Ghost tried to sit up.

 

”Woah, slow down. You got shot. You lost a lot of blood, but you will be fine. Just take it slow.”

 

The pain shot right through him, and Ghost fell back down on his back. ”Shit, it hurts like hell.”

 

”I’ll go grab you some painkillers,” G.O noted, standing from the chair he’d been sitting for the whole night.

 

”Donghae… Did we get him out? Where is he? Is he okay?” He had to ask. There where memories inside his head, that hadn’t been there before.

 

His comrade stopped, taking a glance towards another room in the apartment. ”He’s fine. He hasn’t woken up yet.”

 

Ghost let out an exhale. But it was strange. Strange knowing things he hadn’t remembered yesterday. He didn’t know what had initiated him to remember, but it was still more than before. He knew what had happened, just before the crash. He remembered the night, when he’d shot a man and Donghae had entered his life. The rest of them were just pieces. But the connection he’d had with Donghae… It buzzled to realize that he could feel the attraction. He felt like a stranger in a strange land. He couldn’t say he’d be… That he’d feel love, no, but in a way he understood why. It was like a thin string attaching him to the other, for whatever reason he yet didn’t know. But there was something, and it was confusing, frustrating even. Pieces were missing, but the worry he felt, it was very real, although very frail.

 

”Here.”

 

G.O’s voice made Ghost wince, he hadn’t noticed him coming back at all. The man had a bottle of water on his hand, which he handed to Ghost when he managed to sit halfway up, leaning against his elbow. His body was tired, and he still smelled the blood. And as he looked around, he realized that the dark stains on G.O’s pants and the puddle on the floor must’ve come from him. It was his blood. He took the offered bottle of water eagerly, gulping a half of it down before he even thought about taking the painkillers.

 

The surroundings were unfamiliar to him. He was lying on a dinner table in the middle of a dining room. There was a doorway to another room in front him, and he saw a couch, and body that lied there. It was the brunet leader. He didn’t look as lifeless anymore, but the bruises and the cuts were now even more evident.

 

”Thanks,” Ghost muttered, eyes still hauled to the sight.

 

”It looks worse than it its. Mostly bruising, a few broken ribs maybe, cuts here and there. Malnourished and dehydrated, but he’s gonna live,” G.O explained, obvious to Ghost’s concern.

 

Ghost’s gaze hovered up and down, then back to G.O.

 

”What is this place?”

 

G.O licked his lips. There was a hint of...sadness in his eyes. Ghost’s eyebrow rose. He had never seen that look on the other’s face.

 

”It’s my old apartment. Haven’t been here in a long time...”

 

Ghost didn’t answer. He saw the stitched up bullet hole on his stomach, and on his left arm. On the floor, he saw the bullet which had obviously come from him.

 

”You patched me up? How did you know how to do all that?” Ghost asked. There was a lot he didn’t know about the other man. He had never asked, and G.O hadn’t told.

 

G.O had a look on his face the red head couldn’t really understand.

 

”Well… I used to be a military doctor, back in the day.” He cleared his throat. ”I’ve been on a few tours in the Middle East. Then I came back, but… I wasn’t really back. My girlfriend left me and my life just spiraled out of control. I became an addict, for a while. Then I met Hyunjoong and he… He and Gamangnara… They saved my life.”

 

Ghost’s eyebrows rose to the roof.

 

”No shit,” he gasped, finding it hard to believe the story, but the expression on his comrade’s face told him he was telling the truth.

 

G.O turned his gaze away, clearing his throat again. He hadn’t told many about his past, and he still wasn’t very keen on talking about the subject.

 

”I could use some food. There’s nothing here, so I have to go get some. Want something specific?” He stood up from his seat, ready to leave.

 

”Anything goes,” Ghost rumbled. He was starving, he just noticed. ”You might want to change your pants before you go, though.”

 

G.O took a look of the mess down on his legs. ”Oh, right.”

 

”Are we safe here?” Ghost continued.

 

”Yes.”

 

Ghost pondered about the explosion that they had managed to get out in time.

 

”Have you… Have you heard anything about the warehouse? If… Heechul and Yesung made it out?”

 

G.O clicked his tongue, understanding the worried look on the other’s face.

 

”There was something about it on the news. At that point body count was three, but they were probably the ones dead already. Police seems to think it was arson, or a gas leak. Don’t worry, I’m sure your friends are fine.”

 

Ghost only grunted back, when he started to feel light-headed. He laid back down on the table.

 

”I’ll be back soon,” G.O said.

 

Ghost couldn’t hear him leave, he was already asleep at that point.

 

 

Later, when the time was closing nine in the evening, G.O had left again after he’d gotten a task. He’d promised he would cover for Ghost, which had eased his mind a bit. They needed to keep everything a secret, because if anyone would’ve seen Ghost in that condition, it would’ve risen too many questions. It was already risky to begin with.

 

Ghost had managed to eat something when he’d woken up hours later, but he was still sore and exhausted. After a while, he’d gotten up and dressed in some clean clothes G.O had found for him. He had slept all day, he was still in pain and more rest couldn’t have hurt, but he had too much to think to be able to sleep longer.

 

When he had decided to walk to the kitchenette to get some more water, his steps still arduous and painful, he had taken a glance of Donghae. The man hadn’t woken up once. He didn’t find it surprising, but frustrating, yes. He wanted to talk with Donghae. He needed to.

 

The feelings the memories had given gave him a headache despite all the painkillers he’d taken during the day. There was so much he still didn’t know, and most of all, having these scattering memories and flashes were just the tip of the iceberg.

 

Ghost took slow steps towards the dark living room. The odd feeling down on his stomach was making him crazy. He was worried, and at the same time, so much more. Sitting down on the armchair just next to Donghae, minding the wound on his stomach, he couldn’t do much but stare. He knew things about Donghae, but at the same time the man was still just a question mark for him.

 

The red head was still just Ghost, for the most part. But there was Hyukjae in him too, and he didn’t really know what he was supposed to think, or feel. The feelings were worst. It was as if he was able to see them, know they existed, but touching them wasn’t possible.

 

He leant against the backrest, sighing. Donghae was asleep, covered with a blanket. Or to be honest, asleep or unconscious, he couldn’t see the difference. The other side of his face was a tad swollen and purple, and there was a wrinkle between his eyebrows. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep.

 

As Ghost’s eyes wandered around, he couldn’t help but feel a little out of breath. He looked at the man differently; he saw him in a different light.

 

His thoughts mile away, he suddenly noticed some movement. He straightened his back, but hissed as a burning sensation lashed over his stomach. Ghost rolled the hem of his sweatshirt up, seeing blood dripping down his skin.

 

”Shit,” he cursed, standing down to go get some bandages to bind over it. As he reached the dinner table and the bag on one of the chair, he took out a roll and stuffed the wound with gauze. He had to grit his teeth because of the pain, before he taped the bandage over it.

 

Then he hard a voice coming from the living room. He turned around, and as fast as he possibly could, he staggered back to Donghae. The young man’s eyes were barely open as he tried to sit up, coughing.

 

”Hey, hey,” Ghost warned, ”Not too fast.”

 

The voice rattled in Donghae’s ears. He gazed up to Ghost, but it seemed he couldn’t see clear yet. He tried to speak, but he started coughing again. His chest hurt.

 

”What… What’s going on…?” he wheezed, the best he could from the pain that came from his ribs. He had never felt so horrible before. His whole body ached, but he remembered that he’d been held hostage somewhere. For a few days, he’d stayed conscious. After that, everything was hazy.

 

Other eyes swollen shut, he still could see with the other. The person standing in front of him started to make sense. And at the same time it didn’t.

 

”H...Hyukjae?”

 

Ghost bit his lip. ”Yeah.”

 

The red hair made Donghae realize it wasn’t really Hyukjae, but Ghost… Why was he here? And where exactly was here? He started touching his own face, hissing as he bumped on the lacerations on his forehead and the swollen and bruised part around his eye.

 

”But I was… In the warehouse…” Everything was so confusing.

 

”We got you out,” Ghost replied, voice little bit shaken. ”You’re safe...”

 

”You… Why would you...”

 

”Heechul and Yesung… I helped them get you out.” Ghost swallowed. He took the water he hadn’t yet opened, offering it to Donghae. ”Drink. You must be thirsty.”

 

Donghae eyed him, a little suspicious, but his thirst got the better of him, and he took it. First, it was just a small sip. Then the whole bottle.

 

”Where are they? Where are we?” the younger coughed, clearing his throat.

 

”We’re safe. Heechul and Yesung… I’m not sure about them. There was an explosion,” he muttered, a little unsure. If something happened to them… ”I-I have Heechul’s number, I can try calling him.”

 

Donghae didn’t say anything for a while, finally sitting up, although his head was killing him. It fel like a ship swung inside his head.

 

Ghost had seen his phone somewhere. He walked back to the dining room, finding the phone from his hoodie’s pocket that laid on the floor. He opened the screen.

 

19 unanswered calls.

 

He gritted his teeth, seeing that the most calls had come from Heechul’s number. Immediately, he called back. At the same time, he slowly walked back to where Donghae was, holding his hand over the wound on his stomach.

 

It didn’t take long when the call was connected.

 

’Hello?!’

 

He didn’t recognize the voice.

 

”Who… Who is this?” Ghost stammered.

 

’H-Hyukjae?’ the voice replied, wavering.

 

”Uh, yeah, sort of.”

 

’I mean Ghost. Hyukjae.’

 

There was a silence. Ghost still couldn’t place the voice, but he realized he had heard it a long time ago. But he had no idea about his name.

 

’It’s… It’s Yunho,’ the voice stated. ’Did you make it out? Is Donghae safe?’ Yunho sounded soft and stern at the same time. Ghost finally realized who Yunho was, the leader of Shiwang. The only memory of him, however, was very vague.

 

He took a look of the brunet, sitting on the couch, in obvious pain.

 

”He’s alive,” he said, more like whisper. ”Did… Heechul and Yesung… Are they…?”

 

Yunho was silent for a moment.

 

’They’re alive… But Heechul’s in bad shape. He’s gotten some third degree burns, and a piece of metal pierced his spleen. Yesung is a bit better, few burns... Can I… Can I talk to Donghae?’

 

Ghost felt a churn down his stomach, and cold shivers on his neck.

 

”Sure,” he muttered, walking closer to Donghae and handing the phone over him. ”It’s Yunho.”

 

The call lasted for about ten minutes. Meanwhile, Ghost paced around, went to get two more bottles of water, and paced some more around the living room. He had taken another painkiller, and the worst was slowly fading off. He couldn't really focus on hearing what Donghae and Yunho were talking about. His own thoughts were too loud for that.

 

When Donghae ended the call, Ghost was leaning against the window, staring outside.

 

”Why did you…” Donghae tried to speak, but his voice was wheezing. As Ghost turned to look at him, Donghae looked a bit like he was going to pass out soon. ”Why did you help them?”

 

Ghost walked back nex to the couch, and handed Donghae a sheet of painkillers.

 

”Because I need to hear the truth. I wasn’t going to risk that.” And he meant it. He wanted to hear everything; where he came from, who he really was. He wanted to know if he could be Hyukjae again. It wouldn’t happen fast, but if there was a chance, that he could get everything back…

 

Donghae throw two painkillers into his mouth. But then he eyed Ghost again. His eyes were sharp, despite everything. The brunet saw a red stain on the other man’s shirt.

 

”You’re… Bleeding,” he gasped, trying to stand, but he fell back on the couch halfway through. There were dark spots swirling in his eyes, and the room had started to spin.

 

”Shit, not again,” Ghost grumbled, but as he noticed Donghae’s state, he hurried to his side. It was a strange feeling; to care. It was like an instinct; he didn’t want it to happen, but it just did, without asking his opinion. ”You should just lay down, Donghae. Don’t fight it.”

 

”But…”

 

”I’m fine. I got shot, but I’ll live.”

 

Donghae shut his eyes, throwing himself on his back. But he was persistent.

 

”You saved my ass… Again,” Donghae whispered, the exhaustion taking over.

 

”Just sleep. We talk later,” Ghost grunted. He wasn’t sure if Donghae heard, though. He had already passed out. The man sighed. He would probably save his ass a thousand times over.


End file.
